


I Don't Give A Single Fuck!

by Tiofrean



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Blue Balls, Canon-Typical Violence, Coitus Interruptus, Established Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Hand Jobs, How Do I Tag, Humor, M/M, Smut, interruptions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-21
Updated: 2020-06-04
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:21:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 28
Words: 26,841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21515971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tiofrean/pseuds/Tiofrean
Summary: All the times they tried to get together, but were interrupted.
Relationships: Daryl Dixon/Rick Grimes
Comments: 97
Kudos: 207





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This idea started a long time ago and I owe thanks to both, Mermaidsheenaz and Sorran for it. They gave me all those splendid ideas to write. 
> 
> The fic is basically my (slightly humorous, slightly angsty, slightly romantic) answer to 50 Shades of Gray. 
> 
> In the beginning, I wanted to write 50 ficlets and put them together, but as of now I don't have the time required to do this, so I'm going to post what I have (which amounts to 28 ficlets) and leave it like that. At the beginning of every ficlet, the place/time stamp is included. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

Prison

_The walker with the bitten off dick_

Rick tugged Daryl to the side, spinning them and pressing the hunter against the watchtower’s wall, watching as his breath came out in small pants of breath, illuminated by the moon above them. He was supposed to be on a shift, changing Daryl after five hours of looking out for possible dangers, but Rick couldn’t stop himself from spending a few moments with him just before he trudged up those stairs again. Pressing into Daryl, kissing him fiercely and hungrily, Rick wanted to somehow charge his weary body for the few hours of solitude he would spend up there, protecting his people. Going by Daryl’s encouraging little growls, he was definitely up for that. 

And so, Rick broke the kiss with one last lick into Daryl’s mouth, tongue teasing and drawing out a strangled moan from Daryl. Rick got down on his knees, palming the hunter’s chest and abdomen as he went, laying gentle kisses on the shirt-clad skin, smiling when he felt Daryl’s muscles jump beneath the fabric. Once Rick’s knees hit the ground, he started to unbuckle and unbutton his lover’s pants, moaning when his questing hands met hot flesh, the steely hardness telling Rick just how much time had Daryl spent thinking about him, rather than focusing intently on the line of the forest surrounding the prison. 

Not that Rick minded. It had been quiet and peaceful recently, and he could tell that everyone was more relaxed now than they had used to be before, taking their time to do some living along surviving. 

Giving an appreciative hum when Daryl’s cock was finally free of all the layers of clothing, Rick closed his fist around him, stroking the length a few times and making sure to drag the tips of his fingers over every sensitive spot he knew of. Just when he was about to lean in and take Daryl into his mouth, his ears caught a strange sounding groan. Eyes flicking to the fence, body going instantly alert, Rick tried to find the source of the groan, pausing his ministrations on Daryl. His eyes looked into the dark intently, until he finally made out a walker just outside the fence, face smashed against it as the dead fingers clawed at the chain-link with loud clinking. Rick eyed the walker up and down, the dim light of the moon above them not quite enough to take in every detail, up until the walker turned a bit and Rick froze. 

He gaped, eyes going wide, vaguely aware of the fact that he still had his hand wrapped around Daryl’s cock. The moonlight fell directly on the walker’s front, and Rick couldn’t at first believe what he saw. The walker was obviously male, clad in a tattered, dirty bathrobe, missing half of the skin on his abdomen and chest. But what left Rick mortified was actually the nasty wound below the walker’s waist. Rick swallowed, closing his eyes for a brief moment, opening them again just to be faced with the same picture. The walker’s cock, or what was left of it anyway, was peeking through the gap in the robe, skin dead and wrinkled, mutilated by something that looked like a bite. 

_Someone had bitten off this guy’s dick_ , Rick thought, startled. The wound was oozing that walker-grade dark liquid that Rick supposed was just infected, rotting blood, and Rick felt his insides giving a warning lurch. He swallowed, looking away and closing his eyes once more, trying to breathe in and out deeply. He felt a hand being placed on his head and looked up. 

Daryl was watching him with concern in his eyes, threading his fingers gently through Rick’s curls.  
“What’s wrong?” Daryl asked, voice low and raspy. Rick just shook his head, letting go of Daryl and standing up, hiding his face in Daryl’s neck. The archer wrapped both arms around him, squeezing him tightly to his broad chest. “What is it?”  
“That walker,” Rick grunted out, leaning back a bit, watching Daryl as he looked to the side, following the direction Rick’s eyes had settled on earlier. He cringed, hard, and shifted his gaze back to Rick, biting his lip.  
“That’s… yeah.” Daryl was clearly at a loss of words, and he nodded at Rick emphatically.  
“Sorry I couldn’t…” Rick made a small motion between them, feeling bad for breaking it off like this, but Daryl shook his head no. 

“After _that,_ ” he said, nodding his head to the side, “I don’t really feel like it, either.” He sneaked his hands between them, tucked himself back in and zipped up. Rick sighed and turned to the watchtower door, intent on finally getting on with his shift. A hand on his arm stopped him and lips landed on his cheek in a small, sweet kiss.  
“I’ll see ya back inside, yeah?” Daryl asked on a whisper. Rick nodded, opening the door, trying to get the images of the walker out of his head. 


	2. Chapter 2

Prison

_Getting doored._

The house was quiet, and Rick walked forward, his Python raised. Daryl was two steps ahead of him, his crossbow ready to fire, sure hands holding it high, aiming it at every dark corner around them. 

They had gone for this supply run after the whole of their family declared that they had been too busy to participate. Daryl had frowned and gruffed his way through the preparations, muttering about how lazy they had all become after the shit had settled down in the prison. He had been so engrossed in pushing necessary items into his backpack, that he hadn’t caught Rick’s sly smile. 

_Daryl really didn’t need to know that Rick had planned their little trip just like this, giving everyone enough chores to keep them occupied till the end of the week._

Right now, with only the two of them in an abandoned house, it was absolutely perfect. Rick had missed waking up with Daryl due to his lover’s early morning hunts, and he was going to remedy it today. He had it all worked out, really - they only had this one house to ransack, and it was big enough to waste a whole evening on. Getting back after dark wasn’t wise, so Rick knew that they would stay for the night. He would certainly seduce Daryl with smiles and wandering hands, gentle kisses and some grinding - not that his hunter needed much seducing… Ever since they had gotten together, Daryl had started to treat Rick like a wolf would his mate, stealing kisses and groping him when nobody was looking. 

With a smile, Rick went to check out the next room, stepping carefully behind Daryl. 

-&-

As expected, it was already dark before they were finished with their search. They had scored in meds and canned food, and they were just about done packing everything for transport on the next day, when Rick felt a tug on his arm. He didn’t even have time to ask Daryl what it was, before he was hauled into a more upright position by Daryl’s strong arms. 

“Dar-” was about as much as Rick managed, and Daryl was on him, kissing him with the fierceness of a starving man, grunting low in his throat. Rick hummed, moving his lips and tongue in sync, letting his hands travel over Daryl’s shoulders and down his chest, until they encountered the belt. He hooked his fingers behind it and pulled the archer even closer, enjoying the way Daryl took him up on the invitation and ground his hard-on against Rick’s hip. The urgency behind Daryl’s thrusts told Rick he wasn’t the only one who had been dying for this, and he moaned, bringing his left leg around Daryl’s knee and attempting to align them in a better way. This was going to be quick and dirty, but Rick was fine with it - he had all night to seduce Daryl again, and he had no doubt in his mind that they could go at it again shortly. 

_And then wake up in the morning in each other’s arms and do a little encore._

“Fuck!” He hissed, when Daryl grabbed his ass in both hands and tugged, prompting Rick to jump up and wrap both legs around Daryl’s waist, hooking them at the small of his back. There was a door behind them, leading to one of the bedrooms, but Rick couldn’t really wait that long. He kissed on, sucking on Daryl’s tongue, one of his hands going down and between them, working Daryl’s belt open. When he managed to grab Daryl’s dick - after a bit of a struggle with the zipper - Daryl cursed loudly, his whole body moving forward and smashing Rick’s back into the door. Trapped between the hard surface and Daryl’s hot body, Rick groaned, then attempted to unbuckle his own belt. Once he had both of their dicks out, he rocked up into Daryl, the hunter answering him with a forceful shove of his hips, and suddenly, Rick was _flying._

Literally. 

He flew back, a cacophony of the wood breaking off and splintering to pieces loud in the otherwise quiet house. Daryl managed to gruff out a rough “Fuck!”, and then the world fell dark. 

When Rick blinked his eyes open, he could tell two things immediately - he was covered with a blanket, the softness of it familiar and speaking to Rick about his nights out with Daryl, and second - Daryl was next to him, his hand threading slowly through Rick’s hair, fingers untangling the messy curls that never seemed to give up their chaotic sticking out.   
“What…?” Rick mumbled, then licked his lips. He squinted at Daryl when his lover’s narrowed eyes focused on Rick’s.   
“How’s yer head?”   
“Hurts,” Rick admitted, bringing one hand up to massage the sore spot at the back of his head. He smiled when he realized that Daryl had placed him in a way that allowed Rick’s head to be propped up on one of his thighs. 

“What happened?” Rick asked again, swallowing reflexively to get rid of the dryness in his throat. An unscrewed bottle appeared in front of him and he let himself be fed a few sips of it.  
“The fuckin’ door frame broke,” Daryl grumbled out, but there was a hint of a smirk coloring his voice. Rick winced.   
“Just our luck,” he muttered, wincing when he tried to move and his head protested with a dull throb.   
“Don’t move. Hit yer head a bit hard, scared the living shit outta me when ya didn’t talk like ya usually do.” 

Daryl’s voice was still gruff, but it had that concerned edge to it that made Rick’s heart flutter.   
“I’m fine,” he assured, attempting to sit up. Daryl helped him, then walked him to bed. 

When they cuddled up a few minutes later, their blanket thrown over their bodies like a shield, Rick couldn’t help the smile that overtook his face. _He got his cuddling, after all._


	3. Chapter 3

Prison

_ Sniffles _

Daryl knew it was a bad idea as soon as Rick had started to open his trousers, and not only because he was tired. Their leader wasn’t in any shape to have sex right now, even if he was trying to.  _ Valiantly. _

The thing was, Rick had caught a cold - nothing unusual or scary (yet) in the chilly prison they were living in. Add the constant stress of surviving, mix it with a bit of the bad diet they had all endured, and you were bound to catch one infection or another from time to time. 

It had started with a sore throat and mild sniffling, about three days ago. Now, Rick had a cough, was taking over the counter meds they had managed to find on one of the previous runs, and was trying to somehow breathe with his nose all stuffy. Daryl was curious just how his lover wanted to go about sucking him off when he needed his mouth to breathe, but he wasn’t one to try and tell Rick he couldn’t do something. Such attempts usually only resulted in Rick trying harder to prove that he  _ could. _ The man was more stubborn than an old mule, and Daryl had learned a long time ago to just roll with it and let Rick learn first-hand that some things were better left undone. 

So far, Rick was doing good, though. He had managed to open Daryl’s pants, then took his dick out. With a seductive stare right into Daryl’s eyes, Rick slowly licked over the head, sucking on the tip just a little, only to get Daryl a bit railed up. He had dragged a response out of the hunter, too - Daryl’s hips bucked up, begging silently for more, because  _ fuck, _ Rick was good at it, sick or not. 

One last fiery glance up, and Rick was opening his mouth wide, letting Daryl’s length slip inside, sealing his lips around the middle of the shaft and sucking. Daryl’s eyes fluttered shut and he gave a small moan, trying hard to stay quiet, because there were still people inside the prison that weren’t asleep yet. Rick bobbed his head a few times, really testing Daryl’s self-control, before he drew away. His hand picked up the slack, jerking Daryl off in even, long strokes, and the hunter sighed, biting his lip when Rick’s tongue came back, teasing the slit. 

And then Rick  _ sneezed, _ and Daryl almost jumped up, his eyes popping open in surprise. 

Now, Daryl was by no means a sensitive man, at least not when it came to being covered by strange substances. He had been elbows-deep in walker guts more times than he could count, really, so a bit of snot dripping down his cock didn’t scare or offend him in any way. 

_ It made him laugh like a maniac.  _

He tried to squish it down, choke the laughter out in his throat, but it was useless - it bubbled up and escaped him, making him twitch and then curl up when his muscles flexed. He glanced at Rick and, seeing the mortified look his lover had on his face, Daryl only laughed harder. It wasn’t at Rick's expense, either - rather, the situation was so ridiculous that Daryl couldn’t help himself. Belly twitching, he cleaned himself up with a corner of the sheet tugged from underneath the mattress. He calmed down only after Rick’s look of mortification turned into one of misery as their leader got up and sat at the edge of the mattress, looking down at the floor with sad eyes and sniffling softly. 

“Hey, c’mere,” Daryl gruffed, still smirking, tugging Rick back down on the bed by his elbow. Rick put up a bit of a fight, but he relented in the end, curling up with his back to Daryl. The hunter used the occasion and spooned up behind him, before he drew the covers over the both of them.    
“Get some sleep, huh?” He proposed quietly, laying a kiss on the back of Rick’s neck. His erection had gone away completely by now, so he reached down and tucked himself back in, then wrapped both of his arms around Rick. 

“Sorry,” Rick mumbled out, but Daryl shushed him gently.    
“Not yer fault. Get better, Imma take ya up on that offer later,” Daryl promised, smiling when Rick nodded slowly. He thought that Rick may hold the grudge over his laughing earlier for longer, but a moment later, Rick’s hand found one of Daryl’s and tangled their fingers together. With a yawn, Daryl let himself fall asleep. 


	4. Chapter 4

Prison

_ Stubby toes _

They stumbled through the prison, blindly walking down the narrow corridors, too busy trying to eat each other’s mouths to pay attention to where their feet were being placed. It was a hot day, and all their family was out, enjoying the sunshine and relaxing on the green grass right in front of the prison. 

_ Rick and Daryl couldn’t let such an opportunity pass.  _

They had been working on Rick’s little farm - Daryl mostly observing Rick as the man had bent and straightened up, hoeing the ground like he had been on a mission from god. After they had noticed their whole group lying around and sunbathing, they had simultaneously decided to go and take a shower, before falling into bed together. 

And here they were, fifteen minutes later, wrapped in towels and making their way to their cell on bare feet, hissing every time they stepped onto a small rock or other debris. It was stupid to walk through the prison half naked - even more so, when Daryl could feel some old splintered wood under the soles of his feet. But Rick’s lips were so  _ soft, _ already a bit swollen, and Daryl couldn’t really pause for long enough to push his feet into his boots. So, he just kept on kissing Rick, pushing him along and walking him backwards to the privacy of their cell. 

They were inside in no time, and Daryl couldn’t help but moan when he tugged Rick’s towel away, let it fall from his hips and reveal the hard cock underneath. He reached out to touch, but Rick backed away, a playful smirk on his face. Daryl watched as his lover made his way to the bunk, then lowered himself on it, spreading his legs obscenely. The sight of Rick’s naked body, offered to him like a feast, switched Daryl’s brain off. He lunged forward, intent on crossing the cell in two sure steps and throw himself at Rick like the starved man he was. 

He was stopped halfway through his lunge by excruciating pain shooting up his right leg. 

“Fuck!” He practically shouted, curling up and tilting to the side, somehow managing to land in a heap on the bed next to Rick. His hand shook when it traveled to his foot, fingers grabbing at the small toe and squeezing hard, as if it could stop the pain from blinding him. 

No matter how many times he had been stabbed, cut, or shot, somehow  _ this  _ was always the worst feeling in the world. 

“Shit! Daryl?” Rick asked from somewhere next to him, but Daryl just ground his teeth together and shook his head. He didn’t trust himself to speak without whining like a bitch, and  _ fuck, _ but that wasn’t how he had planned that afternoon to go.    
“Fuck…  _ aaahhhh shit!”  _ He gruffed, peeling his eyes open when the pain lessened a bit. It was still excruciating, but not as blinding as a moment before, and if he focused on Rick’s concerned face he could almost ignore the dull throb that radiated all through his foot.    
“What happened?” Rick asked, frowning, hands hovering over Daryl’s leg like he wanted to help but was afraid to touch him.    
“Stubbed my damn toe,  _ fuck!” _ Daryl seethed, trying not to whimper. His whole leg was pulsing, the pain spreading on the sole of his foot, and for a second, he was afraid he had broken that damn toe. 

Rick’s hands hovered for a bit longer, before they started to pry Daryl’s fingers away gently.    
“Lemme see,” he murmured, wincing in sympathy when Daryl relinquished his white-knuckled grip. His toe throbbed harder, a fresh wave of pain taking him by surprise.    
“Jesus, why does that  _ hurt  _ so damn much?” Daryl gruffed, letting Rick examine his foot.    
“Probably to make us miserable…” Rick muttered distractedly. “Can you move it?” He prompted, then smiled appreciatively when Daryl wriggled his toes. “At least it’s not broken.” 

It felt like it was… or at least cracked up pretty badly. 

“Wait here, I’ll get the kit.” Rick got up and made to walk out of the cell, when he suddenly realized that he was still buck naked. He blushed that pretty shade of red that did nothing to dampen the pain Daryl was feeling this time and grabbed the towel again, wrapping it around his waist quickly before he padded out. 

_ The kit? What the hell fo- _

Daryl looked down, narrowing his eyes when he spotted blood welling up under the toenail, already seeping from underneath on one side. 

_ Oh. That’s what for. Just his fucking luck.  _

Rick was back sooner than any man had the right to be while looking for med supplies in the middle of the post-apocalyptic prison, and Daryl couldn’t help the small smile that graced his lips when he looked at his lover. Rick’s frown was so deep it seemed like he was the one who jammed his toe on the steel bunk. 

Sitting down and re-examining the toe again, Rick started to clean it with water - there was no open wound after all - then wrapped it in a few strips of band aid.    
“It’s probably gonna come off,” he murmured once he was done, throwing the supplies back into their designated box and putting it on the floor to take back to the common area later. Daryl shrugged - it wasn’t the first toenail he would lose. They grew back, so it was no big deal… It was still throbbing and hurt like hell, though, and that made Daryl mildly irritated. 

He calmed down only after Rick joined him on the bed, stretching next to him and wrapping his hands around Daryl’s middle. The dull, pulsing pain didn’t lessen for the next half an hour, and Daryl growled quietly, trying to find a comfortable position, ending up on his back with Rick plastered to his side. 

He had a suspicion that Rick was turning into a telepathic, because after a moment, Rick’s leg slipped beneath his knee, elevating it a bit and prompting him to prop his foot on the side of Rick’s.    
“Better?” Rick whispered, kissing just under Daryl’s ear. The hunter could only nod and sigh quietly. 

It was just such a shame to waste the empty prison they had been granted on an afternoon nap. 


	5. Chapter 5

Lost Winter

_ Night creatures _

The cabin they had found at the edge of the forest was a godsend. Their whole group was tired and freezing, and they welcomed the spacious interior with sleepy smiles and hopeful eyes. They all wanted a peaceful night that would let them rest a bit, and nobody protested when Rick shooed them away, telling them to go and find a comfortable bed. 

_ He would remain and keep watch with Daryl, yes.  _

_ Of course he was sure, no worries, sleep tight!  _

They were all too tired to protest and, half an hour later, Rick was seated on the couch with Daryl, the rest of their family snoring in different rooms. It was by sheer luck that the couch faced away from the rest of the cabin, and with the added privacy, it wasn’t hard to start kissing Daryl. The kissing turned into groping and soon enough, Daryl was laying Rick out on the couch, crawling over him and slipping his hands under Rick’s shirt, rucking it up and making Rick shiver when the cool air hit his stomach. Thankfully, Daryl didn’t leave him uncovered for too long. 

He pressed him down with his own body, shifting a bit to mold them together until they fit perfectly. His lips found Rick’s again, his tongue pushing in and coaxing Rick’s out to play, sucking on it only to have the pleasure of hearing Rick’s quiet moan. They couldn’t make loud noises, not when they were separated from their family only by thin doors and the back of the couch. But small noises were fine, small noises fueled the fire in their bellies, and Daryl really couldn’t help himself in trying to hear all of them. 

They quickly unbuckled and unzipped their pants, feverish hands sneaking inside to tug and squeeze, until Rick was throwing his head back, his mouth slack, soft pants escaping him. He was so beautiful Daryl almost wanted to take a photo of him.  _ Glenn did have a camera stashed somewhere, but he would be damned if he got up now. _ They were both too hungry and too tired to let this bit of comfort go away.

Instead, he kept on moving his hands, trying to jerk Rick off and hold him close at the same time, hoping he could somehow commit this moment to his memory for the whole eternity. He wondered briefly what Rick would do, what his reaction would be, if Daryl told him just that. Drunk on endorphins, feeling their climaxes looming close, Daryl opened his mouth to tell Rick what was going through his mind. 

_ And then they froze.  _

Rick’s eyes snapped back to Daryl, wide and surprised. 

There was a weird sound, right outside the cabin. Then another, and another after that. Rick frowned, glancing at the window.    
“Raccoon?” He whispered, his hand still deep inside Daryl’s trousers. Daryl shrugged.    
“Dunno. May be. Or a possum or somethin’,” he murmured, keeping his voice low. The sound happened again, this time a bit further away from the cabin. Rick looked back at him, then licked his lips.    
“We should go, see if we can kill it,” he whispered, taking his hand out of Daryl’s pants finally. The hunter caught it quickly, pressed a small kiss to Rick’s knuckles, then heaved himself up.    
“Yeah, let’s.” 

Zipping and buckling up again took them all of ten seconds. A few moments later, they were stepping out of the cabin silently, their weapons raised, ready to shoot and cook whatever it was that was making those strange noises.  What they had been doing was great, yeah, but it was nothing compared to cooking a stew for their family, even if it was watered down and not spicy enough. 


	6. Chapter 6

Prison

_ There’s a bug going ‘round _

Rick had a plan. 

And it was  _ genius.  _

He really wanted to spend some quality time with his hunter, but he had a problem. The problem had a name, a hat, and quite a bit of attitude. And had been following Daryl like a puppy, ever since he had discovered that Daryl was  _ cool. _ Apparently, being a badass hunter riding a bike and smoking cigarette after cigarette was way better than being a dad. 

Rick couldn’t really blame Carl, though - he thought that Daryl was cool, too. 

And right now, he wanted to have some of that coolness for himself and himself only. So, he had concocted a plan, a grand master plan that involved his son and Rick’s new pumpkin patch. He was trying to grow pumpkins, there was nothing there yet apart from huge green leaves and numerous weeds. They were easily distinguished, too, so he thought about adding two and two together. 

“Carl! Come here,” Rick called, spotting his son sitting on one of the picnic tables, talking excitedly with Daryl. His son looked up, muttered something - Rick couldn’t really hear what from where he was standing - and rolled his eyes. 

Rick felt ten shades of amused when Daryl smacked the kid on the shoulder playfully then glared at him and pointed back at Rick. He could almost  _ see _ the steam going out of Carl’s ears when the teenager stomped over to him, making sure the effort of walking those fifty yards was showing clearly on his face. Rick chuckled.    
“Why the face, huh?”    
“You want me to work on the garden again.” Carl was glaring right at him, and Rick  _ tsked. _   
“Weren’t you the one who wanted to celebrate Halloween this year?” Rick asked, mildly amused by his son’s temper.  _ God, Carl was a moody teenager.  _

After a few moments of silence, Carl reluctantly nodded, following Rick’s hand when he waved it at the plants.    
“This is your Halloween. You want pumpkins? Gotta take care of this, first,” Rick explained, smiling when Carl perked up a bit.    
“They’re gonna grow here?”    
“Yeah. It’s gonna be a pumpkin patch. And if you take good care of it, I’m gonna tell everyone you cultivated them yourself,” he baited, knowing fully well what his son’s weak spots were. Carl’s eyes shone a little when he looked back at him.    
“What do I do?” 

Rick grinned. 

_ Hook, line, and sinker.  _

After he had explained to Carl exactly what he had to take care of while weeding the patch, Rick left him to the task, happy that he managed to kill two birds with one stone. He skipped - actually fucking  _ skipped _ \- over to where Daryl was seated, batted his eyelashes at the hunter, then walked inside the prison, directing his steps towards the cells. 

He didn’t even step fully into the block C, before Daryl’s hands were on him, strong arms wrapping around his waist and pressing them together. Rick laughed, somehow managing to continue his walk,  both of them looking like a drunk crab attempting to move on a slippery deck of a ship. The block was blissfully empty, however, and they could do whatever the hell they wanted without the scrutiny of their family. 

_ Whatever the hell they wanted _ turned out to be pawing at each other as soon as they crossed the threshold of their cell and kissing the breath out of each other’s lungs. It was suddenly hot inside, and Rick longed to wriggle out of his clothes, but he knew better - it was the middle of the day, and there was a chance that they would have to go back out, do some more work, probably at a moment’s notice. Instead, he focused on nibbling along Daryl’s neck, smiling when the hunter growled at him and pressed him into the wall, grinding their hips together. 

The feeling of Daryl’s hardness squished against his own, hot even through the layers of fabric separating them, made Rick light-headed. He groaned and threw his head back, his hands migrating to Daryl’s belt to unbuckle it and get at least some skin-on-skin contact…

“Daryl!” 

They sprang apart as if burned, hurriedly fixing their clothes and trying to make themselves presentable, Carl’s voice ringing in their ears. 

The teenager appeared in front of their cell a moment later, almost smashing into Daryl stomping out of it.    
“Oh! Daryl! Maggie told me that you went back to the block,” Carl chirped happily, completely unaware of Rick trying not to groan with frustration inside the cell. The leader was only happy to have the heavy blanket serving as a curtain at the cell’s door - it was thick enough to muffle his tired sigh and the squeak of the bunk when he plopped down on it. 

“Yeah?” Daryl grumbled out, sounding equally frustrated.    
“I wanted to show you something!” 

There was a longer pause, and then Daryl’s voice drifted to Rick, sounding confused as hell.    
“It’s a bug.”    
“Yeah! But it’s a  _ blue _ bug! And it’s so  _ shiny!” _ Carl went on, happily ignoring Daryl’s squint Rick knew must have been present by now.    
“Kid… It’s a damn  _ bug!” _ Daryl muttered, then sighed. “I mean, yeah, it’s pretty, bu-”   
“Right? I wonder what it’s called… You think there’ll be a book about bugs in the library in block A?” Carl asked, all excitation. Rick bit the inside of his cheek to stop himself from laughing aloud.    
“Dunno kid, why dontcha go and check it out, huh?” Daryl asked after a moment. 

A few seconds, and the hunter was back inside their cell, glaring at Rick as if it was his fault that Carl was a little cockblock.    
“That kid of yers has the worst timin’, Rick,” he growled, and Rick snorted.    
“I guess that killed the mood?”    
“No shit, Sherlock,” Daryl gruffed, then shook his head in exasperation. “Got anything else in mind while Carl tries to find a book about his brothers?”    
“I would suggest a story time…” Rick said, grinning, ducking when Daryl grabbed a balled up sock lying on the floor and hurled it at his head.    
“Fuck you, Grimes.” 


	7. Chapter 7

Lost Winter

_ Curiosity killed a… squirrel? _

They stole a moment to themselves. Somehow, between the six miles they had done today and the freshly fallen snow, their group wasn’t so keen on keeping watch outside the little house they had holed up in for the oncoming evening. It was more than fine with Daryl, who gruffed something about checking the grounds, then threw a meaningful look Rick’s way, before they excused themselves and walked out. 

The snow was surprisingly crunchy when Daryl laid out his poncho on it and pushed Rick down. It took them no time at all to unbuckle and unzip to have the access to the most necessary parts, and soon enough, Daryl was moving over him rhythmically, their hands joined and creating a very warm tunnel to fuck into, while they kissed passionately. It wasn’t even that cold, not when their bodies were burning with pleasure, fiery sparkles that spread all through them and made them feel way hotter than it should be possible. 

Keeping one hand between them, Daryl used his other to prop himself up, his elbow firmly planted on the poncho right next to Rick’s shoulder. It let him tangle his fingers in Rick’s hair, tug on them a bit and move Rick’s head to the side. The leader didn’t mind, he was way too happy with Daryl sucking and nibbling along his neck, not bothered by the bruises he would leave because they were all wearing thick scarves by now to keep the cold away.

A strange whistling sound caught Rick’s attention, and he opened his eyes lazily, blinking in the glow of the slowly setting sun. He didn’t see anything at first, but the whistle happened again, and he was slightly concerned that they might have been caught by someone from their family. It wouldn’t be a big problem in general - even if Rick wasn’t sure where he stood with Lori, he knew one thing: they weren’t a couple anymore. Sneaking with Daryl into the forest wasn’t that bad… getting caught with their pants down would be pretty shitty, though, so he looked around carefully, biting his lip when Daryl swiped his thumb over their leaking heads. 

“Wait…” Rick whispered, licking his lips, his free hand squeezing Daryl’s hip. “Wait, Daryl.”    
“Wha…?” Daryl huffed out, but slowed down, finally coming to a stop when he leaned back and took in Rick’s concerned frown. “What is it?”    
“Thought I heard something,” Rick said, voice low. Daryl jerked his head up and looked around, too.    
“What did ya hear? A walker?” He asked, already on high alert, his fingers untangling from Rick’s hair and inching towards his crossbow.    
“No, no… a whistle,” Rick whispered, withdrawing his hand from where it was still wrapped around their cocks. He levered himself up on his elbows, prompting Daryl to pull away. They froze, listening intently.

_ Another whistle. _

Their heads snapped to the side, looking for the source… and there it was.

_ A squirrel. _

It whistled again, then made a curious sort of half-bark and half-screech that made Rick think about puppies.    
“‘S just a damn squirrel,” Daryl gruffed above him, then pushed Rick back down onto the poncho, claiming his mouth once again. But Rick barely responded, still too focused on the tiny creature watching him. 

He… well, he  _ couldn’t. _ It wasn’t that he was shy - he could happily spread his legs for Daryl, present all he had to his dear hunter and wait patiently for Daryl to fuck him. Thighs wide apart or ass high up, that wasn’t a problem for Rick. But… there was something in animals watching him that made him uncomfortable, just like a kid catching them red-handed would. It always crushed his arousal into nothing, dousing the fire within him until he had to inevitably stop whatever he was doing and find something else to occupy his time. 

Back in the day, Shane had tested that theory. They had been teenagers with a lot of stupid ideas. One of Shane’s had been to let his dog into Rick’s room every time he had thought his friend had been jerking off. He had gotten the confirmation from Rick’s surprised squeaks and yelps, followed by a seriously grumpy attitude for the rest of the given day. 

There would be two grumpy people this time around, however, because once Rick spotted the inquisitive squirrel, he couldn’t get it out of his mind. Even if he closed his eyes and tried to focus on what Daryl’s lips were doing on his collarbone, images of those tiny, beady eyes watching him from a few feet away wouldn’t leave his head. 

Daryl noticed - of course he did, how could he not with Rick going soft in his hand, with Rick’s whole body tensing unpleasantly until he was stiff as a board under Daryl’s hungry fingers. The hunter drew back, eyeing Rick curiously.  
“Really?” He gruffed out, but there was an edge to his voice that spoke volumes about his hidden amusement. Rick bit his lip and nodded, averting his gaze.   
“Yeah… I’m sorry, I just… _can’t.”_   
“Seriously?” Daryl asked, the corners of his lips curling up slightly. Rick was sure he would start laughing, had it not been for the miserable look on his lover’s face. “Well… shit.” Daryl muttered at last, shaking his head a little. 

There was a rustle, and the squirrel jumped a foot closer, then went back, landing near a tree. 

Daryl made as if to stand, then seemed to think better of it and sat back on his heels. He reached for the crossbow and aimed, squeezing the trigger after he let out a quick exhale. Rick  glanced to the side, not feeling even a bit bad when he spotted the squirrel pinned to the bark at the foot of the tree, dead as a door nail. 

With one last longing look, Daryl tucked himself - then Rick - back inside, got up and dusted the snow off his pant legs. Rick rolled off the poncho and stood up, too. He thought about just how grumpy Daryl would be in the evening, and tried to come up with a plan that didn’t involve squirrels. 

Much later, when Daryl threw bits of squirrel meat into the pot, together with twigs and leaves he managed to find between heaps of snow, Rick felt marginally better. Especially when the hunter muttered “serves ya right, ya asshole,” to a piece of squirrel leg, before he dumped it into the pot, too. 


	8. Chapter 8

Church

_ Lord have mercy _

Their family was either asleep or on watch - the adults paired off and keeping an eye on Carl and Judith, all of them gathered in the small sacristy in Gabriel’s church. The church had a tiny balcony, too, right over the main entrance. 

A balcony Rick and Daryl knew very well how to use. 

They were busy rolling on the old wooden floor, trying to be quiet and somehow succeeding, saying with their hands what their mouths couldn’t let loose. Rick was getting ready to open Daryl’s shirt, already fiddling with the first button, slipping his finger in the gap right underneath just to feel the heat of Daryl’s skin -

_ “Our Father, who art in heaven,” _ a rather loud voice reached them, and they froze. Rick’s eyes widened, and Daryl’s narrowed in answer. A silent question sailed between them.  _ What the hell? _

_ “Hallowed be thy Name, thy kingdom come, thy will be done,” _ the voice continued, and Rick drew back, blinking owlishly in the near-darkness around them. Daryl scoffed, then sat up. He inclined his head in the direction from where the voice was coming, and Rick nodded. Together, they crawled to the wooden railings at the end of the balcony, happy that it was made of solid wood and wouldn’t give their position away. Curiously, they peeked over the edge, immediately focusing on the lone figure kneeling in front of the altar. 

_ Gabriel.  _

Of course. __

_ “On earth as it is in heaven.” _

“Ya’ve got to be shittin’ me,” Daryl whispered, barely audible. Rick shook his head, his eyes glued to Father Gabriel, wondering what the hell was the priest even doing praying in the middle of the night. Shouldn’t he be asleep with the others? 

Daryl’s lips appearing on his neck startled him, and he bit off a groan that tried to escape at the sudden sensation. Rick tilted his head back when his lover started to suck on the delicate skin, lavishing it with tiny kisses that had no right to be as arousing as they were. 

_ “Give us this day our daily bread...”  _

“Why don’t you go and get it yourself?” Rick muttered with irritation, only to have Daryl shush him gently, his hot tongue squirming its way into the hollow right above Rick’s clavicle. They were both seated on their heels, with Rick’s side pressed against Daryl’s chest, and it was just too easy for Daryl to grab a hold of Rick’s hair and tug his head even further back, giving himself more space to work. Rick’s hips rocked forward, his appreciation clear, and Daryl hummed quietly, the vibration deep in his chest more noticeable than any noise he could have made. 

_ “And forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us,” _ Gabriel went on, blissfully unaware of the two irritated men trying to get off on his balcony. 

Daryl let his hands skim over Rick’s abdomen, wrinkling the t-shirt he was wearing, but it was clear that he was distracted. His fingers paused and stuttered, starting one motion only to shift to do something else a second later. 

_ “And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil.” _

“Oh, I’ll deliver him from evil… I’m gonna fuckin’ kill ‘im, swear to God...” Daryl snarled, and Rick chuckled, stilling his hunter’s hand on him. He turned to Daryl fully and, seeing the frustrated look Daryl was wearing, Rick leaned in and joined their lips together, his tongue sneaking in and muffling whatever sound was bubbling up in his throat.    
  
“God might not hear you,” Rick whispered softly, breaking apart for a bit of air. “That priest is clearly trying to steal His attention all for himself.”    
“I’ll think of somethin’.” Daryl scoffed, narrowed eyes dragging slowly from Rick’s face to Gabriel still kneeling in front of the altar. It was clear from the edge in Daryl’s gaze that he had murder on his mind.    
“It ain’t worth it, darling,” Rick soothed quietly, breathing the words right into Daryl’s ear. He started placing gentle kisses up and down Daryl’s neck, his fingers going back to their interrupted task of unbuttoning the shirt Daryl was wearing. 

Gabriel’s prayer tapered off with a much quieter “amen,” and Rick smiled, thinking they would have some peace now to do their own version of  _ praying.  _ He was just about to lick a broad stripe down Daryl’s chest, when Gabriel’s voice reached them again. If it was even possible, it sounded a lot  _ louder  _ than a few moments before. 

_ “I believe in God, the father almighty, creator of heaven and earth…”  _

Daryl pulled away with a growl,  _ too loud not to be heard downstairs.  _ He stood up and started marching to the stairs, his stomping startling Gabriel into shocked silence.    
“Daryl!” Rick snorted despite himself, rushing after him and grabbing his hand, trying to tug him back. “Remember the fifth commandment! You shall  _ not _ kill!” Rick said, laughing. He dug his heels into the floor when Daryl started to drag him along it with the sheer force of his anger propelling him towards Gabriel.    
“Don’t fuckin’ care!” The hunter growled, moving on, ignoring Rick. “If God hadn’t struck that idiot already, I’m gonna!” 

Gabriel had never been so pale in his life… or been running away so fast. 


	9. Chapter 9

Alexandria

_ Leave space for Jesus _

Paul “Jesus” Rovia had always been one sneaky bastard - at least according to his previous boyfriends. He didn’t really mind, hell, he actually liked his skills. It was easy to snoop around people’s houses, especially now, in the middle of the apocalypse. He knew he wouldn’t find anything that could help him save the world, but he could at least learn about some of the sins people were often trying to hide. This way, Hilltop was sure that their allies were really that -  _ allies - _ and not some dangerous freaks that only waited to beat them and steal the shirts off their backs. 

Which was precisely why Jesus found himself in Rick and Daryl’s bedroom, in their  _ closet, _ squished between a staggering number of blue button-ups and leather jackets. 

Jesus sighed, peeking through the gap in the closet door, observing the scene in front of him. Rick was lying on his back on the bed while Daryl was on his knees, sucking Rick off with impressive skill, his cheeks hollowing so hard Jesus was sure he could see the shape of his teeth through the skin. He was doing a good job, too, if Rick’s enthusiastic praises were anything to go by. Jesus would be lying if he said that the scene wasn’t interesting - quite the opposite, in fact. Sitting in the cramped closet was becoming really hard when  _ he _ was getting, well…  _ hard,  _ too. He knew he would have to get out of there sooner rather than later, and certainly before Rick or Daryl discovered his presence. This way, he would get the element of surprise and use it to his advantage. 

Because he had no doubt that getting caught in their closet would result in a broken nose and a few good kicks. 

-&-

“Oh fuck, fuck,  _ fuck!  _ Daryl!” Rick chanted, out of breath, watching his dick disappear between Daryl’s lips. He had been waiting for this moment for the whole damn morning, following Daryl since they had woken up and headed to the construction site just next to Alexandria. All through the day, he had been watching his hunter with hooded eyes, catching more details about his physique than was rationally possible, but there he was. Buzzed up, horny as hell, dragging Daryl into their bedroom for a late lunch break. 

Daryl must have been as starved, because he had pushed Rick down on the bed the second they crossed the threshold, yanking his pants down only far enough to expose his cock, taking him into his mouth and sucing like a man possessed. Rick squirmed on the bed, pushing his hips up for more, halfway out of his goddamn mind already. And Daryl only took him in  _ deeper,  _ swallowing around the head, and -   
“Jesus!” Rick practically shouted, his back arching, eyes fluttering shut in pleasure.    
“You called?” 

Rick jumped up and away from the bed so fast he actually hit Daryl in the jaw with his knee. The hunter grunted, but whirled around, eyes going wide then narrowing dangerously when he looked at the man sticking out of their closet. 

“What the absolute fuckin’  _ hell _ are ya fuckin’  _ doin’ _ ‘ere ya lil’ shit?” Daryl growled the words out, wiping his mouth with the back of his wrist, then glaring daggers at their newly acquired friend. Jesus grinned, then got out of the closet, and Rick was sure there was a joke hiding there, but he was too busy trying to zip his junk back in his jeans to try and find it. Jesus sent him a wink when he saw what Rick was doing. 

Daryl’s hands fisted at his sides. 

“Do continue, boys, I’ll see myself to the door,” Jesus chirped merrily, directing his steps towards the exit. Rick finally managed to close his zipper and stared on, still mortified. Daryl’s arms twitched.    
“Oh, and remember,” Jesus called, already in the corridor, “ _ leave space for Jesus!”  _

“Ya lil’-” Daryl broke off, stomping after him, only to be stopped by Rick. The leader was finally prompted into action by the vision of Daryl murdering the poor idiot right inside their house. He got between Daryl and the entrance to their bedroom, blocking the hunter’s way with his arms firmly planted on the door frame.    
“Don’t.”    
“Lemme at ‘im!” Daryl growled, trying to force his way through. 

“Aww, Daryl!” Jesus called from somewhere behind Rick. “Don’t be like that! What would Jesus do?”    
“Get the fuck outta here,” Rick seethed at him over his shoulder, sending him his best  _ don’t fuck with me _ look. “Or I’ll let him catch you.”    
“And what would you tell my people?” Jesus asked innocently, one hand on the handle of the door to their house.    
“Shit happens. A walker got you.  _ You slipped on a fucking banana peel…” _ Rick started listing, glaring at him. Jesus laughed and stepped out, closing the door behind him with a soft  _ click.  _

Daryl growled again, stepping away from Rick and plopping down on their bed with a sigh.    
“Jus’ so ya know,” he muttered, glaring at Rick. “Next time I see ‘im, he’s gettin’ punched.” He promised, and Rick grinned.    
“Deal.” 


	10. Chapter 10

Lost Winter

_ Hit by a tank _

Rick was so beautiful when he let himself go, moaning with every push of Daryl’s hips, his whole body twitching when Daryl rocked into him rhythmically. They were covered with a blanket, their pace was lazy, a crooked mirror image to the crazy day they had just had, and Daryl really liked it like that. Sure, quickies could be good, wonderful even, but there was nothing better than having Rick laid out in front of him, his whole body shaking as Daryl sank into him again and again. 

And the  _ noises  _ Rick was making… god, they were driving Daryl absolutely  _ mad. _ They were a bit too loud, though, at least for now, when they were all cramped in one small house, their whole group snoring a few feet away. They were all asleep, Daryl had made sure of it before they had even started their slow lovemaking, but the risk of waking someone up was too great. And so, when Rick started to babble for more, those sweet little pleas falling from his mouth in a rushed litany, Daryl leaned down until his lips brushed against Rick’s ear. 

“Shh, shh, shh…” he soothed, one hand sneaking between them and grabbing a hold of Rick’s cock. He tugged on it a few times, frowning when it started to go soft in his hand. Alarmed, only now noticing just how still Rick was, Daryl pulled back, inquisitive eyes searching Rick’s face in the half-darkness surrounding them. 

“Rick?” He whispered, but Rick shook his head, a beam of moonlight falling on his gorgeous features and illuminating two glistening spots. Daryl inhaled sharply, his hips stopping their gentle rocking. 

Rick wasn’t even sure what had just happened. One moment he had been asking Daryl for more - harder, deeper, faster… whatever he wanted to give him, something,  _ anything  _ to push him over the edge and make him come. The next - Daryl was shushing his incessant babbling and he sounded just like  _ Shane  _ had so very often in the past, and Rick just  _ froze. _

He had killed Shane a few weeks ago, and hearing Shane’s patented  _ ‘shh, shh, shh…’ _ coming from Daryl was like being hit by a damn  _ tank. _

Rick stilled, his breathing becoming erratic, and his throat worked convulsively, hoping to swallow back the tears that were threatening to spill over. He had loved Shane, loved him like he would his brother… _probably even more than that._ The man’s loyalty had made it so difficult to believe that he had wanted to kill Rick, but when it had happened, when Shane had waved his gun at Rick and threatened to end his life, Rick had done something that hurt even more. He had stabbed Shane right in the heart, cursing him and begging for forgiveness in rushed words that had jumbled together into one long wail. 

Shane was dead, and Rick was lying in a quiet little house now, alive and breathing, with Daryl looming over him, looking as if he was about to panic. 

“Rick?” Daryl’s voice brought him back to the present fully, and Rick shook his head reflexively, looking away, aware of the tears streaming down his temples and disappearing in his hairline. Daryl’s thumbs appeared on his cheeks and, as they brushed away the wetness, Rick could only cry harder, choking up the sounds and biting his lip not to let them escape. 

“Shit, did I hurt ya?” Daryl whispered, pulling away, his dick slipping out of Rick. The leader winced, but it was more because of the loss of contact, rather than whatever discomfort he could be feeling right then. He sighed when Daryl settled next to him, the worried frown never leaving his face, and Rick shook his head, only now remembering that the hunter was waiting for an answer.    
“No. I’m…”  _ Fine? Really?  _ “You didn’t hurt me,” Rick whispered instead, turning to his side and hiding his face in Daryl’s neck.

When Daryl went to shush him again, Rick told him not to before the first ‘shh…’ was out of his mouth fully.    
“Don’t. Just…  _ don’t,” _ Rick mumbled into Daryl’s shirt, fisting his hand in it, holding on as he tried to survive the onslaught of emotions that hit him right in the kidneys.    
“Okay… okay, I won’t…” Daryl reassured quietly, wrapping his arms around Rick’s shoulders and keeping him close. It worked magic on Rick’s haywired nerves, and he felt himself calming down after a longer moment. He knew he owed Daryl an explanation, though, lest the hunter thinks it was his fault. 

“Shane used to do that,” Rick started, licking his dry lips, then swallowing through his suddenly sand-filled throat. Daryl tensed next to him, but he relaxed pretty quickly, one of his hands finding its way into Rick’s hair and threading through it. 

“Every time I was panicking or getting angry, he would just come up to me and shush me like that… and when you did it…” He couldn’t finish that sentence, but it didn’t seem like he needed to. Daryl was hugging him as close as he could, his protective streak on and running high.    
“I _ loved _ him, Daryl…” Rick mumbled softly, so softly he wasn’t sure the hunter could even hear it.    
“It’s okay,” Daryl replied after a moment. His fingers never stuttered in their soft combing of Rick’s hair, and Rick felt a surge of warmth enveloping him that had nothing to do with the blanket somehow still wrapped around them.    
“Love you, too,” he whispered, pulling away to make sure Daryl heard him. The kiss he received in answer was enough to let him know just how Daryl felt about him. 


	11. Chapter 11

Prison

_ Brothersome _

Merle was bored. 

B.O.R.E.D. 

He was locked up in one of the prison cells, the one almost at the end of the upper level. He didn’t see shit from his vantage point, so he stopped trying, opting instead to lie down on the bunk and amuse himself. 

And what better way of finding entertainment, than to irritate a certain ex-sheriff who had cuffed him to the rooftop so many months before? Especially that said sheriff had a very distinctive gait, his bow-legged steps echoing around the prison every time, no matter how quiet the man tried to be. 

_ Even more so when he was hooking up with someone.  _

Merle wasn’t sure who that someone was, but he knew enough to send well-aimed jabs at Rick.

Every. Damn. Time. 

Rick’s steps disappearing somewhere on the lower level?    
“Hey Officer! Getting  _ Friendly _ over there?” 

Rick crossing the catwalk hurriedly, then pressing someone to the wall with a dull thud?    
“Is that police brutality yet, or just a good bribe, Officer?”

Quiet footsteps after midnight, sneaking around, ending up with a harsh moan falling from Rick’s lips, chased by a string of  _ yes, yes, yes…? _   
“Chasing tails in the night? Aren’t you a good boy, Officer!” 

Merle’s afternoon nap interrupted by a very rhythmic thumping a few cells away?    
“Hey Officer! Isn’t it too early for a  _ nightstick?” _

It wasn’t until his first week inside the prison was over that Rick came to see him, looking haggard and way too tired. Merle rose an eyebrow at him, grinning sleazily just to rile him up.    
“Looking for a bitch, Officer? Sorry to disappoint, ya ain’t my type. Maybe ya could ask some of those fine pieces of ass that are walkin’ ‘round that prison of yers… maybe not that black bitch, tho, she’d probably cut yer dick off with tha’ sword of hers,” Merle rattled, his grin only growing bigger with every second. 

Rick’s eyes went dark, and he stepped forward.    
“What do I have to do to make you shut up?” He asked, his voice low and dangerous. Merle cackled.    
“Lemme outta ‘ere!” He announced, opening his arms wide. Rick pretended to think about it, but nodded, fishing a key from his gun belt and opening the door.    
“Get the fuck out and shut the hell  _ up,” _ Rick demanded, stomping away, his hips swinging. Merle whistled after him just because he could. 

-&-

On the next day, while everyone was out and about, Rick dragged Daryl inside and into the direction of their cell. As soon as they were inside, he threw himself at his hunter, kissing him madly, starved for any kind of contact.    
“Slow down,” Daryl whispered, huffing out something that could have resembled laughter, had it not been so breathless.    
“Can’t,” Rick gasped out, tilting his head to the side and attacking Daryl’s neck. “Waited for you too fucking long,” he murmured, finding his favorite spot right under Daryl’s ear and sucking on it with force. Daryl bucked against him and that brought Rick’s attention to the possibilities of dry-humping Daryl into oblivion. 

That was exactly what he did, promising to blow his lower as soon as he was done, whining low in his throat at how good it felt to just grind his hard-on into Daryl’s hip, even if they were both covered in layers of clothing. Daryl didn’t seem to mind, though - he chuckled quietly, whispering a “come on, then” and urging Rick to go at it, pulling him in by his ass and squeezing wherever he could reach. 

Rick moaned, throwing his head back, feeling the edge closing in at a record speed. He hadn’t been that horny since before the apocalypse, and he had a feeling Merle cockblocking them on every fucking occasion during the last week had something to do with the state of his insides. He was melting into a hot puddle of goo, a wave of liquid lava spreading through him with every crash of their hips. 

“Don’t ya need a permit fer a private search, Officer?” Merle’s voice boomed right behind their privacy curtain and Rick cursed loudly, groaning in frustration. He never stopped moving, though, too far gone to pay attention to anything other than Daryl’s hard body against his. Two, three more thrusts, and he was spilling inside his pants like a teenager, his body tensing up and then going boneless. 

“Fuck… fuck, fuck, fuck…” Rick whispered, pushing his forehead into Daryl’s shoulder and sighing. “Gimmie a moment and I’ll do you,” he murmured, tilting his head and kissing the hollow of Daryl’s throat blindly, sticking his tongue out to taste the salty skin.    
“‘S okay, we’ve got time. Let’s wait fer ‘im to fuck off first,” Daryl mouthed, so quietly even Rick had troubles understanding the words. 

“Done already? Why Officer, ya disappoint me!” Merle crowed, still standing in front of Rick’s cell. Daryl had had enough.    
“Fer fuck’s sake, _ Merle!” _ He shouted, his voice laced with anger. 

The prison went completely still around them, and then, in the complete silence surrounding them, Merle was tearing through the privacy curtain, grabbing Rick’s shirt and bodily pulling him out of the cell.    
“What the flying  _ fuck _ do ya think yer doin’,  _ Officer?” _ Merle seethed, tugging Rick to the side and slamming his back into the bars of the neighbouring cell. Rick wheezed, trying to get his footing, but it was hard when his knees were still more jello than bone after his recent orgasm. 

Merle leaned into him, a very displeased expression twisting his features. Rick tried to gasp in some much needed air, but Merle’s forearm pressing into his windpipe made it quite impossible to do. 

“Merle!” Daryl’s voice next to him, and Rick had a brief second to glance to the side. Merle did the same, then was stumbling back, cradling his nose in the safety of his fingers, blood dripping down his wrist. Daryl’s hands were on Rick suddenly, checking his neck and making sure he was breathing, before he got between his brother and his lover, anger tightening the muscles in his shoulders - a thing Rick could easily  _ see _ even under the loose t-shirt the man was wearing. 

“Touch ‘im again an’ I’ll shoot ya, Merle!” Daryl shouted, staring Merle down, his voice gravely with the grim promise. The older Dixon looked up at him, then at Rick, before he spit a wad of blooded saliva right under Daryl’s boots. Without another word, he started making his way downstairs, never once looking back. 

Daryl whirled around, eyes softening when he took in the bruise forming on Rick’s neck.    
“Ya okay?” He asked, tender fingers brushing over the spot. Rick nodded automatically, then huffed out a mirthless laugh.    
“That blow job will have to wait some,” he rasped, throat barely working. Daryl just shook his head and went back to the cell to find the bottle of water they kept near the bed. 

Thankfully, Merle started to keep his distance after that. 


	12. Chapter 12

Prison

_ Kick off _

The forest was blissfully quiet around them, and Rick couldn’t really stop himself from disturbing the silence with loud moans. Daryl was pressing him into the ground, freshly leaved shrubs crunching under his back as Daryl’s weight settled on Rick’s hips. They were going slow, they had the time, after all. Sneaking out under the meager excuse of hunting wasn’t anything new, but it was quite clever to do it at noon when the air was warm and smelled of spring. The sun was shining down on them through sprouting branches, and Rick was mesmerized by all of it. Just them, the wind whistling softly in the background, and a nearby stream flooding their ears with its tiny rustling. 

Rick was so focused on Daryl - on the way his hips moved atop Rick’s, on the way his hands traveled from Rick’s neck to his belt - that he didn’t really pay attention to anything else. It was hard, really, especially when the hunter finally undid Rick’s trousers and fished him out, one rough hand wrapping around Rick’s length and giving it a few luxurious strokes. 

“Come on! Shit…  _ Please!” _ Rick mumbled, his eyes rolling back when Daryl swiped his thumb over the sensitive head, then dove down to capture Rick’s lips in a filthy kiss. It was the exact imitation of what Rick’s cock would be doing later inside Daryl’s ass, and Rick was so ready to - 

“Jesus FUCK!” Daryl yelped, hearing a snarl to his right. He jumped up on instinct, whirling and spotting a walker lunging at them. Not having enough time to grab his weapons, Daryl fisted his fingers in the walker’s long hair, wincing when it started to slip from its skull along with the half-rotten skin. He ground his teeth and readjusted his hold, trying hard to avoid teeth and nails that did their best to tear into him. The thought of Rick lying vulnerable on the ground the only thing on his mind. 

After a brief struggle, not able to win by just pushing the walker away, Daryl got angry.  _ Furious, _ even. With his eyes wide, one hand finally managing to grab his Python blindly from a pile they left their weapons at, Rick watched on. He was rendered speechless when Daryl, in the midst of his rage, tugged the walker forward and turned his own body around, sidestepping the rotting creature and throwing it off-balance. The walker snarled and tried to grab him, but Daryl was quicker. With a mighty yank, the walker’s head came free, the neck breaking and separating with a sickening crunch. 

Daryl took the head - which was still moving its jaws pathetically - and kicked it viciously. The first deeper breath he took was only after the head hit a tree about thirty yards away, falling to the ground with a hollow thud, then rolled away still chomping its teeth hungrily. 

It took Daryl almost ten seconds to tear his gaze away from the place where it landed, only to drag his eyes to Rick, blinking furiously when he focused on his lover. 

Rick was still lying on the ground, the rest of the walker’s - now  _ dead _ \- body fallen over him. It was relatively harmless, but it still looked fucking  _ gross, _ bleeding all over Rick, discolored, blotchy skin slipping off and falling down on Rick’s exposed stomach.    
“Um…” Rick grunted, one trembling hand pushing the corpse off of his body. That finally kicked Daryl into moving. He stepped closer to Rick, his own breathing still erratic, and helped the man get the dead walker off of him. 

“Daryl…” Rick mumbled once he was back on his two feet. His voice was strange and he was staring at his hands as if it was the first time he had seen them dirty with walker blood. Daryl watched him closely, his eyes following Rick’s fingers when they attempted to shake the gore off of his stomach, before Rick gave up. He tucked himself back inside his trousers - no wonder that he had gone soft, that level of dead filth would put off even a well-paid prostitute, not to mention the close call they’d just had. Rick’s whole front was smeared in guts - from his neck, down to his dick - and the sight made Daryl’s stomach lurch unpleasantly. The hunter kept on staring at his lover, observing as blood drained from Rick’s face, leaving it startlingly pale. 

“Rick?” He questioned softly, but Rick raised one hand at him, stopping whatever he wanted to ask. Three seconds, a few shallow breaths, and Rick threw up all over the dead walker, almost bowing in half, his other arm shooting to the nearest tree for support. 

Nobody commented when Rick took a very long shower after they had gotten back sometime later. When their leader said no to the dinner, they resolutely kept their mouths shut, too. 


	13. Chapter 13

Prison

_ We could have bean together _

They had been running low on everything… but most of all, food. Rick’s little garden wasn’t too plentiful yet, most of the plants still trying to grow their more mature leaves. Daryl had been nursing his twisted ankle, so his hunting had been put to the back burner. 

They could catch only that much using snares. 

It was a huge blessing, then, when Glenn had appeared one afternoon, the car packed full of goods, a pleased grin spreading his lips.    
“Guys! Look at that! We’ve scored!” He shouted happily, waving his hand at the car. He walked around it and tore the door open, the smile never disappearing from his face. Rick squinted and walked closer, Daryl in tow. 

Beans. The whole car was loaded with  _ baked beans.  _ Cans of them,  _ boxes of cans,  _ from left to right, squished into every corner they could fit, up to the fucking roof.    
“We’re gonna have a feast tonight!” Glenn announced, clapping Rick on the shoulder and walking merrily to the prison to announce the good news to everyone. 

It took Rick ten seconds to realize that he was standing there, gaping at the loot. He only closed his mouth after he had glanced at Daryl and noticed the idiotic, astonished look on the hunter’s face. 

-&-

True to his word, Glenn organized a  _ feast. _ Baked beans were everywhere, cold or heated up, in bowls or on plates… some still in cans. He had revealed that he found that shocking amount of beans in a truck that had been lying upturned in a ditch on one of the side roads. It had been almost completely taken over by greenery, so it had been hard to notice. It had had that  _ old and dirty _ look, too, so he had figured nothing worthy must have been inside. That was probably what all the other people passing it had been thinking, too. 

Thankfully, Glenn had never been one to be easily discouraged, so he had broken the lock, and here they were now, gorging themselves on baked beans, filling their stomachs to the brim for the first time in two weeks. 

The party ended about three hours after the sunset, when all of their family started to feel the food-induced laziness and proceeded to go to sleep. Rick and Daryl were among the last ones to call it a night, actually sneakily waiting for the others to pass out before they started to make their way into their cell. With such a wonderful day, with their bellies as full as their pantry, they felt stupidly happy and couldn’t wait to celebrate just between themselves. 

Their clothes disappeared as soon as they stepped over the threshold of their cell, the privacy curtain barely closed before they were crawling on the bunk, kissing each other slowly. There was no rush, no hurry to get off and go on, and they took their sweet time exploring and re-learning their bodies. 

The first fart came when Daryl was just getting ready to press Rick into the mattress and fuck him stupid. It had been forewarned by a low rumble somewhere in Rick’s belly, and the embarrassed blush that followed was actually kind of adorable. Daryl tried to kiss it away, but Rick turned his head away and muttered something too quietly even for Daryl to hear. 

They tried again, but then, Daryl’s digestive track decided to make itself known. A bit of giggling from the both of them somehow dissolved the situation, but the mood started to shift and that wonderful heat was dampened. 

It was put out completely when the farts started appearing more often, finally making them pull away and exchange exasperated groans, rubbing their hands over their faces like if they were mirrored images of themselves. 

Half an hour later, Daryl was picking up his clothes and putting them on, collecting his pillow and one of the blankets. Rick didn’t even have the strength required to feel embarrassed anymore, cursing every bean he had eaten on that evening, watching as the hunter went to sleep in another cell. The had decided it would be better not to spend the night together, but the prospect of a lonely night in a cold bed put them off canned beans for a long time to come. 


	14. Chapter 14

Alexandria

_ Ain’t a good boy _

Alexandria had its advantages, Daryl couldn’t deny that. Out on the road, their time together had been scarce and most often rushed - desperate hands gliding over starved skin which was still wrapped in clothes in case of emergency. 

Now, with walls and doors that locked, Daryl and Rick let themselves slow down, often indulging in their hidden desires, in things they had kept locked away because usually there had been no fucking  _ time _ for those. One of such things turned out to be Rick’s penchant for  _ watching. _

Daryl hadn’t really been surprised to discover that, quite the opposite. Rick had always been alert, he had communicated a lot with his eyes only, and the way his gaze dragged after Daryl had indicated that particular like of his a long time before he had admitted it aloud. In Alexandria, they could do something about it - a fact of which Rick took full advantage, leading Daryl into their bedroom and peeling his clothes off slowly, enjoying every inch of newly revealed flesh. 

Once he was completely bare, feeling a bit ridiculous but still encouraged by the fire burning in Rick’s eyes, Daryl let himself be laid out on their bed, getting comfortable with a few twitches and a slight shuffling around. Rick remained at the foot of the bed, staring at him and licking his lips, looking like a man starved.  _ That _ was a surprise - they had had more sex last week than they had managed to have during their whole trip here, after all, and that particular look usually meant that Rick was at the end of his rope. 

“God… you’re beautiful,” Rick whispered. His voice was low and breathy, but it was enough to make Daryl feel too hot. He still thought it was pretty freaking ridiculous, but he knew that Rick loved it, so, he stretched out on the bed, bringing his arms up over his head. He raised his left knee casually, tilting it to the side a little, enjoying the way Rick’s breath caught in his chest. 

_ “Christ.” _ Rick stood there like hypnotized, hooded eyes glued to Daryl, his mouth open as soft pants escaped him. He brought his hand to the bulge in his trousers, rubbing it firmly. His hips followed the motion mindlessly, as if he couldn’t stop himself. Daryl licked his lips and moved his other leg, hiking it up. Rick moaned. 

“Wider,” he said, but it sounded more like a desperate plea than a command. Daryl smirked, feeling strangely light-headed. The control he had over this man was a heady feeling. He never prided himself on being the dominating one, but in that moment he was sure that if he told Rick to get down on his knees in worship, Rick’s kneecaps would be bruised later. Not that Daryl had to, Rick had already done enough worshipping. 

Slowly, he let his legs fall open, smirking when he heard the sharp inhale coming from Rick. It was chased by a small whimper, and Rick stumbled forward, his knees hitting the mattress. He crawled up, until he was looming over Daryl, leaning down to steal a fiery kiss.    
“Touch yourself,” he whispered into Daryl’s mouth, glancing down between them just to watch Daryl’s hand travel slowly to his cock. The hunter trailed one finger up his length slowly, just to have Rick shiver as if it was him Daryl was touching. 

“More,” Rick prompted, his gaze never leaving Daryl’s hand on his dick. Daryl obliged, wrapping his palm around the base and dragging it up, fingers loose. The touch was teasing, because he knew that Rick wouldn’t take it for too long anyway. Sure enough, a few seconds later, the next quiet plea came. 

“Turn around?” Rick asked, jamming his hand under their pillow and retrieving the bottle of lube they had stashed there. It was half empty already, and Daryl made a mental note to look for more on his next run with Aaron. He could bet his friend would be eager to help. 

With a small smile and a quick kiss, Daryl shuffled around, getting on his hands and knees. It forced Rick to move back a bit, but he stayed close, his chest pressing into Daryl’s back. The position put him at just the right angle to press his lips into Daryl’s ear.    
“Hands on the headboard,” he murmured, grabbing the bottle and spilling some lube on his palm. He trailed his fingers down Daryl’s ass, stopping at his entrance and circling the tight muscle. Daryl groaned, quickly throwing his hands on the edge of the headboard and gripping it tightly. 

“Good boy.” 

The next thing Rick knew, he was falling on the bed, pushed back by Daryl abruptly straightening in front of him. He blinked up, surprised, his lubed-up hand smacking on the covers and making a mess in his wild scramble for support. 

“The fuck did ya say?” Daryl seethed, eyes narrowed dangerously. He turned around so he was facing Rick, staring at him with his gaze so cold Rick felt an unpleasant shiver running down his spine. He opened his mouth to explain himself, to ask Daryl what the hell had just happened, to say  _ something, _ but the words got stuck in his throat. Daryl eyed him, scoffed, then got out of bed, grabbing his clothes and putting them on hurriedly. 

“Daryl-”    
“I ain’t yer  _ good boy, _ Rick,” the hunter spat, turning around and storming out, the sound of his footsteps loud in the otherwise quiet house.    
“Daryl, wait!” Rick called after him, but the only thing he got in response was Daryl’s shouted  _ ‘fuck off!’  _

-&-

Rick found him five minutes later, fully dressed, sitting on their porch and smoking a cigarette. Daryl sighed when Rick approached him, acknowledging his appearance with a side glance. He made no move to invite Rick to sit down next to him, so Rick remained standing, feeling oddly chilly. 

“Can you tell me what has just happened?” He asked carefully, trying to keep his voice calm. It was completely at odds with the raging storm of confusion that was roaring in his gut.    
“Ain’t yer good boy,” Daryl repeated, stubbing out his cigarette, then taking out another one and lighting it. Rick took a deep breath and counted to ten in his head. He knew that Daryl wouldn’t talk unless he was ready to, and Rick had to be patient about it. Forcing the issue would probably result in Daryl sleeping at Aaron’s and that would be pretty depressing. 

“There was this guy.” Thankfully, it looked like Daryl was merciful today. “Nothin’ serious, but we met a couple of times. He was always callin’ me a  _ good boy. _ ” Daryl swallowed, then took a furious drag from his cancer stick. Rick waited. 

“One night, after shootin’ shit in the pub, we went to his place. He wanted to fuck me, I wanted ‘im to fuck me, so we got to it. Except, he started off by hittin’ me.” 

Rick cringed, then looked away. Daryl went on.    
“He had this idea tha’ it woulda been grand to push me ‘round an’ turn me into his slave, or some shit.” Daryl shrugged, smoking on calmly. Rick shuddered, finally looking back at him.    
“Did he…?” He couldn’t really voice his question.    
“Hurt me?” Daryl finished for him. “No. After the first three minutes I knocked ‘im out cold,” he stated, smirking a bit. “The guy was a pussy. But at tha’ time I was a lot smaller, so he had the advantage. Merle’s trainin’ came in handy.” Daryl finished the cigarette, and somehow, it felt like he was finished with the story. Rick let out a slow exhale.    
“Thank god.” 

Daryl sent him a look, then moved to the side, leaving space on the porch that Rick immediately took.    
“I’m sorry,” he mumbled, hooking an arm around Daryl’s back.    
“Jus’... don’t do it ‘gain.” The hunter gruffed. Rick nodded his head so hard he made himself dizzy. 


	15. Chapter 15

Prison

_ Spice it up _

The small town they pulled up to was completely deserted - something they all welcomed with huge relief. They were on a supply run, just the four of them - Rick and Daryl in one car, Maggie and Glenn in another. They had decided to take two cars in case of scoring a big loot, and they couldn’t wait to get that show on the road. There was a bonus waiting for both couples,  an unspoken rule about giving the others some space for the so much needed  _ alone time. _ For that very reason, they started their search in the middle of the town and worked their way to the opposite ends of it. It was easy to do, too, the buildings were mostly located along one street. 

-&-

Four hours into the run, Rick and Daryl encountered a pretty well-stocked house. It only had one walker inside and, apart from the mess in almost every room, it was a good place to let their desires come into play. 

When they stumbled through the corridor, directing their steps to the only place the mess wasn’t as glaring, their hands were already busy. Hungry fingers tugged on clothes and starved lips met in passionate kisses, and in no time at all, Rick was pushing Daryl against one of the countertops in the kitchen. The few plates that had been left behind by whoever had lived here were pushed to the floor and soon, he had Daryl’s ass planted firmly on it, the hunter’s bare legs wrapped around his waist, and his dick leaking all over the front of Rick’s trousers. 

They had mastered the art of quick fucks, and it came in handy now. With Daryl divested of his pants and underwear, Rick had the access to all the important bits, so they didn’t bother undressing further. They had about half an hour till they had to go and meet up with Maggie and Glenn, and  they couldn’t really stretch this deadline. It was a long established rule - if you wanted to fuck while on run, you better be on time. It was sensible, it worked well, and it saved them from getting stuck somewhere with a walker because the others thought they were otherwise occupied and waited patiently, instead of coming to the rescue. 

“Ah shit… shit, shit, shit…” Rick muttered, breaking their kiss, patting at his pockets frantically. Daryl grunted, then leaned back, his eyes narrowing.    
“What’s wrong?” He asked gruffly, already working Rick’s zipper open.    
“I left the lube in the car,” Rick rasped out, his hips thrusting up into Daryl’s eager hands. “Shit!”    
“Ya weren’t a boy scout, were ya?” Daryl asked, smirking, then looked around.  _ They were in the kitchen of a well stocked house…  _

There it was! Daryl grinned, then twisted to the side, one hand wrapping around Rick’s cock while he stretched the other, reaching for a bottle of oil standing on one of the shelves. He grabbed it and shoved it at Rick, leaning back to give him access.    
“Hurry up!” He egged Rick on, huffing out a laugh when Rick almost spilled the contents in his haste.    
“Jeeeez… slow down!”    
“Can’t. Been waitin’ too long. Those two lovebirds are probably fuckin’ right now,” Daryl said, biting his lip at Rick’s ragged groan. 

Rick finally got the message and poured a generous amount of oil into his hand. He set the bottle away with a loud clunk and smeared the slick between his palms quickly, wrapping his left around his hard length and bringing the other to Daryl’s ass. In moments like this, Daryl could really congratulate his leader on his multitasking skills. 

The first finger went in smoothly, and Daryl immediately started to ask for two, because they didn’t have  _ time _ for a slow, romantic fuck now. 

With the second finger in, Rick fell eerily still, his wide eyes staring at Daryl. But the time Daryl realized that something was  _ really, really wrong, _ Rick was already pulling away, looking frantically around the kitchen, finally grabbing Daryl’s discarded pants and reaching for the red rag. 

That’s when the burn registered in Daryl’s brain. 

“Fuck…  _ what the… _ Rick? What the  _ hell?” _ Daryl wheezed, a bit panicked, because his ass was  _ on fire.  _ It was burning, stinging to high hell, and the sensation was getting worse by the minute. 

_ “Shit... _ I don’t…  _ fuck! _ Wait!  _ Wait… _ just…” Rick stammered, coming back to Daryl, pushing his legs apart and wiping at his entrance with the rag. Daryl winced, because it actually fucking  _ hurt. _ He let Rick deal with it, though, even if he doubted that it would help in the slightest. The burn was more or less the same, intense and painful, and when Rick finally pulled back,  Daryl had to squish the urge to plant his ass on the tiled floor for some cooling. 

He winced when he saw Rick, with his dick as red as the rag he was wiping it with.   
“Shit… ya okay?” He asked, but shut up quickly when Rick looked up at him, jaw tense and eyes tearing up.   
“The fuck has just happened?” Rick said instead, cringing. He gave up on the clean-up, threw the rag on the counter and just sat down on the floor. His gaze went to a messy stack of pizza house flyers lying near the table. He looked about ready to grab a handful and fan his dick with them. 

Daryl shook his head, gritted his teeth, and grabbed the bottle of oil still sitting innocently on the counter. His eyes widened when he read the small print under the big letters at the front.    
“Fuck… Rick?”    
“Y-yeah?”    
“That shit had chilli in it,” Daryl rasped out, wincing when he took a step and his ass reminded him about the burn. 

-&-

In the end, half an hour later, they had to do a little shuffle. None of them was fit to sit down and focus on driving back home, so Rick went with Maggie, and Daryl teamed up with Glenn. It was a good thing their cars’ back seats were big enough to lie down on their sides, even if it required them to curl up and the position pulled at their clothes. It was still better than spending two hours of the ride back home sitting up in  constricting underwear. 


	16. Chapter 16

Prison

_ The edge of pleasure _

The morning was truly beautiful - a lot of sunshine and not a walker in sight. Daryl had made sure of it, killing every last one of them,  stabbing them through the fence until the groans had finally stopped coming. 

_ He was the groaning one now. _ __

It was the only way, really - he had Rick’s hands all over him, unbuttoning his shirt and trailing along the muscles on his chest, skimming to the sides to dig blunt nails into the hollows between his ribs. He had no idea what was it with Rick and his ribs, but he wasn’t about to start complaining. Certainly not when every touch shoot sparks of pleasure down his spine. They pooled low in his stomach, setting his insides on fire, making him want more. 

“Stop teasin’,” he gruffed out, tilting his head back when Rick started to suck on his neck, worrying the delicate skin between his teeth.    
“Yeah, just…” Rick muttered distractedly, his hands finding purchase on Daryl’s belt. He undid it quickly, but before he set to unzipping Daryl’s pants, he let his hands travel to the hunter’s backside. He grabbed and pulled, trying to get them closer together for a few hurried thrusts. 

Rick jumped back suddenly, a hissy whine leaving his lips. Daryl blinked at him, confused and a bit startled.    
“What is it?” He asked, seeing Rick clutching at his hand, his teeth bared in a snarl.    
“What the  _ fuck _ was  _ that?” _ Rick asked, looking at him with pained eyes. His hand was starting to get suspiciously red and Daryl frowned, reaching back to where that hand had been just a moment before. 

_ Oh fuck.  _

He had forgotten about his knife, the one he had stored in a little sheath at the small of his back, tucked away behind his belt loops. The sheath had been a bit small, so  he had slashed a hole through, happy to have another place to hide a knife. He had six of them on him at any given time, and they had always come in handy.

_ This time, not so much. _

“Jeeez… ya okay?” It was a stupid thing to ask, but Daryl did anyway, glancing at Rick’s hand with concern written all over his face. Rick shook his head, then hissed. The truth was,  _ it fucking hurt, _ so he gritted his teeth and tried not to moan pitifully. 

“‘M sorry,” Daryl murmured quietly, coming closer and reaching for Rick’s hand to check it. The cut was deep but, thankfully, not that long. It was clearly painful, though, and could easily get infected with their way of living. “Should go to Hershel,” he proposed. Rick only nodded. 

They made their way back to the prison in silence, with Rick gritting his teeth and Daryl keeping his mouth shut. Once Rick’s hand was covered with ointment and bandaged, Daryl swore to remove all of his knives before getting frisky again. He kissed Rick better, too, just to be sure that his lover was okay. 


	17. Chapter 17

Prison

_ Don’t poke the bear _

Rick had been working in his  _ little garden _ \- as Daryl had so eloquently put it - since early morning. It was already getting dark outside, the sun had set a good hour ago, and he was pretty tired. The only thing that was keeping him standing was the thought of Daryl waiting for him in their cell, rested and happy after his hunt. 

The hunter had gone out at the crack of dawn to catch and kill a buck that had been eluding him for a few days. Daryl had been sure that it couldn’t have been far, so Rick had figured that it had been a quick work. And sure enough, when he entered their cell in the evening, Daryl was there. 

_ Sleeping.  _

Rick smiled, then walked in fully, making sure the privacy curtain was pulled down behind him firmly. He started to undress, but his eyes were focused on Daryl. His lover was on his stomach, his ribs expanding slowly, shallow but measured breaths speaking of peaceful sleep. He looked beautiful like this, his chest bare and his legs wrapped up in a blanket, the sweatpants peeking out at Rick, soft and ready to be pulled down. 

Rick got rid of his shirt and trousers and wondered briefly why the hell had he even put them on after the shower in the first place, instead of just wrapping himself up in a towel and getting to their cell. It took him a moment to take off everything except for his boxers - Daryl really liked to do that himself, and Rick wasn’t about to deny him. 

He walked to the bunk and lied down, stretching next to Daryl. Pressing a small kiss to Daryl’s shoulder, his lips hot on the cool skin, Rick hoped to wake him up. But, Daryl only sighed and twitched a bit, his eyes remaining closed. Rick smirked and tried again, letting his hands come into play. He dragged them up and down Daryl’s side, only receiving a grumble in answer, the sound of it half-smothered in the pillow under Daryl’s head. 

“Hey sweetheart,” Rick murmured, leaning up and kissing along the shell of Daryl’s ear, licking the earlobe when he got to it. Daryl gruffed something out, then shuffled away, his fingers fisting in the pillow. Rick chuckled and tried again, one arm encircling Daryl’s waist. 

“Come on, darling…” he whispered, nipping along the slope of Daryl’s shoulder, smiling when Daryl moved. But, his lover remained asleep, leaning away from him. Rick frowned, licking over Daryl’s shoulder blade, his tongue following the curve of it. 

_ He got smacked for his trouble.  _

“What the… Daryl?” Rick asked, eyes wide. Daryl hummed, then settled down once again, a soft sight escaping him. Rick blinked at him in confusion, before he tried one more time. When he pressed his lips to the nape of Daryl’s neck and started to slowly kiss a path down his spine, Daryl finally woke up.    
“Da hell?” He asked, confused, his voice raspy with sleep. Rick grinned, but got smacked on the head again, and this time, he pulled away fully, sitting up and glaring at his partner.    
“Come on, Daryl…” 

“Fuck  _ off!  _ Lemme sleep,” Daryl gruffed, but he turned around to face Rick, sleepy eyes looking at him blearily.    
“You’ve slept through the afternoon,” Rick accused, pouting. Daryl groaned.    
“Try an hour,” he said, yawning.    
“What?” 

To say that Rick was surprised would be an understatement. He had heard a commotion near the gates somewhere around noon, and he thought it had had to be Daryl, coming back after a successful hunt. He had been too busy with the water pump to go and see, though. The excitement had ended quickly, and nobody had come to him to relay any grim news, so he had figured it had been Daryl, coming back alive and well, probably happy about his hunt. Rick had even seen the deer when he had walked back after his day of gardening, the animal already gutted and ready to be skinned, lying at the entrance to their little home. 

“I got here about two hours ago, had to shower-” Another yawn. “Been tracking that fucker for a long time. Took me six hours, I think,” Daryl explained, his eyes a bit more focused now. 

Well, Rick felt like an ass hearing that. 

Daryl had been on his feet since early morning, hunting and walking miles, dragging the heavy buck back home afterwards… just to be woken up by Rick and his stupid plans.    
“I’m sorry,” he said sincerely, looking down at his lap. In the light of the news he received, Rick wasn’t even horny anymore. Right now, he just wanted Daryl to get some sleep.    
“‘S okay,” the hunter mumbled, yawning again, and Rick winced.    
“No, really… I’ll let you sleep.” 

With that, he made to stand up, ready to leave and find something useful to occupy his time. The truth was, he felt stupidly insignificant when he realized just how much Daryl had done in the time he had been hoeing the ground and watering the plants that  _ could _ bring them some food in the future.  _ Could, _ because there was no guarantee they  _ would.  _

“Wait.” Daryl stopped him with a hand on Rick’s wrist, warm fingers wrapped tightly around it. He tugged Rick closer, whispering a ‘ _ come here,’ _ and stifling another yawn. 

Rick let himself be pulled down and cuddled to Daryl’s chest like a giant teddy bear without a protest. He smiled softly when he felt Daryl’s breath evening out a minute later. 

_ He had a whole evening to plan a good wake up for his hunter.  _

Half an hour later, he was snoring, too, Daryl’s warmth wrapped around him like a blanket. 


	18. Chapter 18

Alexandria

_ Give a guy a warning _

Alexandria was a strange place. Daryl hated it - constricting walls that kept the idiots in, more than held the danger out, fake smiles and suspicious neighbors… He hated it with  _ passion. _ But, they were here now, so he figured he had to adapt somehow. It was hard, though. Made even harder by the changes that had happened to their family. 

Everyone started smiling suddenly, as if an invisible switch had been turned in their heads.  _ Puff, _ and they all looked like they had forgotten just what had happened before, what they had done to get here. Thank god Rick was still the sa-

Daryl froze when he felt a pair of lips pressing right behind his ear. He was standing in their brand new kitchen, glaring daggers through the window, ready to snarl at anyone who even  _ dared _ to look his way. He knew that Rick was somewhere in the house,  they had agreed to meet up later… well,  _ agreed _ had been a slight nod of the head and a heated stare, but the message had been clear at the time \- we should use the space while we have it. 

And so, Daryl had dragged himself back inside as soon as he was done checking the perimeter, the walls, and the guards.  The walk-around had taken him the better part of three hours, and he had spent some more time smoking and looking at the nearby pond, just because the prospect of locking himself up in a strange,  _ ridiculous _ house had filled him with dread. 

He had been so busy staring out the window that he hadn’t even noticed Rick sneaking up on him, wrapping a pair of surprisingly strong arms around his waist. After the initial surprise, Daryl leaned back, smiling, before the feeling of  _ wrongness _ registered at the back of his mind. 

_ Rick’s kiss felt different.  _

It was too soft, and Daryl turned around, stopping Rick’s lips with a hand on his chest. Rick blinked up at him, surprised, confusion showing on his face. Daryl just stared. 

Clean clothes…  _ no,  _ a clean  _ uniform - _ because apparently Rick had been appointed a constable - a pair of new jeans, cleanly shaved face and- 

_ God. Rick’s hair… _

“What the  _ hell?” _ Daryl asked, squinting at him, making Rick frown.    
“What?” He asked back, stupidly. Daryl squished the urge to growl.   
“What the hell did ya do to yerself?”    
“I… took a shower?” Rick phrased it like a question, and Daryl shook his head giving an exasperated sigh. 

“I figured, we could use all that hot water we have now,” Rick went on, coming closer once again, leaning in for a kiss. Daryl let him capture his lips, but didn’t reciprocate, too shocked by the baby-smooth face pressing against his.

After a longer moment without any response from him, Rick drew back, his gaze full of concern.   
“Daryl…”  
“No. Jesus… the hell is wrong with ya?” Daryl gruffed out, waving his hand at Rick, starting from his head and making a sweep encompassing his whole figure. “The clothes I get, god knows yer previous were fallin’ apart, but the rest?”   
“What _rest?”_   
“Yer beard? That candy-smelling shit ya dumped on yerself-”  
“I grabbed the first bottle that was standing on the shelf!” Rick defended himself, glaring at the hunter. Daryl scoffed.   
“Right. An’ ya grabbed the first razor lyin’ ‘round, too?” 

Rick’s eyes widened. His hand automatically went to his chin, rubbing the freshly shaven skin thoughtfully.    
“The beard had to go,” he muttered. “I didn’t even realize how bad it looked.”    
“Bad!?” Daryl seethed. If it was possible, his eyes narrowed even more.    
“I looked like an ancient mountain man!”    
“Congratulations, now ya look like a fuckin’ teenager!” Daryl scoffed, then tried to sidestep Rick and walk away, but Rick grabbed his hand, effectively stopping him. It wasn’t that Daryl couldn’t tear free of his grasp, it was more that he didn’t want to. It would shatter something inside of them both and somehow Daryl was still aware of that. 

“Why did ya do it fer?” Daryl mumbled, looking at the floor.    
“We have to try and fit in, you  _ know  _ that. I had to-”    
“Ya didn’t have ta do that, though,” Daryl said, then looked right at Rick. His eyes were like an angry ocean, and Rick belatedly realized that Daryl was staring at his hair.    
“Daryl…”   
_ “Ya could have warned me, Rick!”  _ Daryl growled, low and dangerous, positively vibrating from anger. Rick sighed, shaking his head a little, more to clear it than anything else. 

Daryl clearly had trouble adjusting, and Rick couldn’t blame him. The last few times they had thought that they found a community, they had barely made it out alive. This one, however… this one looked like the real deal. And Rick was determined to grow roots here, make it accept his family or take it by force, whatever was necessary to  _ stay in. _

It looked like he had to start with Daryl, though. 

Putting on a tiny smile, Rick stepped forward and brought his hands to Daryl’s shoulders. The hunter didn’t seem too optimistic, but he didn’t push Rick away, and that could be counted as a success already. Rick let his hands travel, hooking one arm behind Daryl’s back to keep him close. His other got busy, palm trailing down, settling on Daryl’s hip. Rick rubbed his thumb soothingly over the sliver of skin that he could reach, right between Daryl’s pants and his shirt. When his lover stopped looking as if he was going to eat him alive - and not in a good sense - Rick risked a small kiss.

“Who did this anyway?” Daryl asked when they broke apart, threading his fingers through Rick’s short curls. Rick swallowed.    
“Jessie… She’s our neighbor. She came to see how… Daryl?  _ Daryl?”  _

Rick stood there shocked, his gaze trailing after the hunter as he turned around and walked to the front door.    
“Daryl, wait!”    
“Fuck this place and fuck you!” Daryl gruffed. The whole house rattled when he shut the door with a loud bang. 


	19. Chapter 19

Alexandria

_ Unhelpful but friendly _

It took Daryl two whole days to get over Rick’s new look. Two days of Rick sleeping alone on the floor, because it was still their adjustment period and the whole group decided to stay close and alert in case something went wrong.

_ Two days of Daryl acting downright hostile towards everyone save for their family.  _

He wasn’t openly angry with Rick, not after his initial burst was over. But, there was no warmth that he had usually bestowed upon their leader, and Rick was slowly going mad. 

And so, when Daryl had decided to stop sulking on the morning of day three, Rick couldn’t have been happier. As soon as their gazes met, Rick knew that it was the moment they would finally find each other again. 

Their kiss was almost magical - with the emotions still running high, with the slow and severely overdue adrenaline crash they were both experiencing, the simple press of lips was better than a sip of water during a drought. 

Rick moaned into it, licking his way into Daryl’s mouth. _ A starved man with his first meal in so long he could barely remember his lover’s taste. _ Daryl answered in kind, planting his hands firmly on Rick’s ass and hauling him closer, molding their bodies together until they could feel each other’s heat through the layers of clothing. 

It was early morning, and they knew that if they wanted a bit of privacy, they would have to relocate to the bedroom, but for now their whole group was outside, steadfast in executing their new duties. Rick had every intention of using the time they had been granted. 

He moaned quietly, his fingers getting busy in Daryl’s unruly hair, when there was a doorbell. Frowning, Rick pulled away, glancing at the door, then back at Daryl. There was an imperceptible nod from the hunter, so Rick smoothed out his clothes that had somehow gotten rucked up, and went to answer the door. 

“Hi!” A rather optimistic looking woman said, holding a basket full of apples and peaches. Rick glanced down, then back up at her, a frown forming on his forehead.    
“Hi?”    
“I’m Olivia. I work in the pantry… We’ve had a bit more fruit than we had anticipated, so I’m making rounds and giving it out. Here’s your share,” she chirped merrily, pushing the overloaded basket his way.

Rick took it, smiling politely.    
“Thank you. It’s so nice of you!” He said, hoisting the load and propping it on his hip.    
“No worries. And no need to thank me.” She blushed, grabbing a stray lock that was dangling in front of her face and tucking it behind her ear. “Alright, I’ll be going. Bye!” She waved at him and stepped away, turning around and walking forward. 

Rick frowned again, his gaze shifting between the fruit and the woman walking away. After a longer moment, he shrugged, then closed the door. He placed the basket right next to it - he had far more important matters to attend to, as Daryl reminded him from the corridor, staring at him seductively. 

Rick took three steps in Daryl’s direction, but there was another doorbell. He huffed, throwing his hunter an apologetic look, before he went back to answer it, thinking it was probably Olivia that had forgotten to tell him something.    
“Really, thanks for the fruit,” Rick said, opening the door, then stopped short. It wasn’t her.    
“Morning,” a guy greeted, a pleasant smile stretching his lips. Rick stared at him, trying to remember his name…  _ Tony? Todd?  _ _   
_ “Morning,” he said back automatically. The guy’s smile got wider and for a ridiculous moment, Rick’s head reminded him about a labrador he had used to have before the world had ended.    
“Listen, I know you’re all still settling in, but I wanted to ask if you’d like to come to a barbecue my neighbors and I are doing…” 

Rick stared at - _Tobias?_ \- then remembered that it was impolite to stare, so he nodded.   
“Yeah, I… I’ll talk with my family about this, yeah.” Rick scratched his head, still more absorbed in recalling the man’s name. To- _Tobin!_   
“Sure thing! See you, then!” Tobin waved, then started to slowly walk away, and Rick closed the door behind him. 

He turned back to Daryl, shrugging and making his way to him. The hunter welcomed him with open arms and a deep kiss, grabbing Rick as soon as he could and pressing him into the wall. Rick let himself be ravished, moaning softly when Daryl brought their hips together, trying to light some of that fire again. When he leaned back to start working on the buttons of Rick’s shirt, Rick used the opportunity to plunge one hand down the front of Daryl’s pants, his fingers wrapping around Daryl’s length immediately. 

It was hot in his grasp, leaking just a bit, and Rick smiled, smearing the precome around the head with his thumb, enjoying the way Daryl bucked up into his fist with a groan. 

He was ready to tear Daryl’s clothes down and fall to his knees, when the doorbell rang yet again.    
“Fuck’s sake!” Daryl growled, his chest heaving. Rick threw him an apologetic look, then detached himself. He hated to do that, but they had to keep up the appearances, and Rick doubted that shouting their pleasure to whoever was standing behind that door would get them much sympathy.    
“I’ll be right back,” he mumbled against Daryl’s lips, giving him a small peck, before he went to answer the door.  _ Again. _

“Hey Rick…” Jessie.  _ Fucking Jessie of all people.  _ Rick tried not to wince when she dragged the vowels out and batted her eyelashes at him.    
“Hey.”  _ There was something damp on Rick’s hand, _ and he belatedly realized that traces of Daryl’s precome were slowly cooling on his skin.    
“Listen, I’ve been cooking…” Really?  _ At nine in the morning?  _ “And I made some casserole… I thought you may want some?” She said sweetly, presenting him the dish. Rick went to grab it, then paused, remembering his wet hand. He rubbed it hurriedly against his jeans, hoping it would get rid of the mess, then grabbed the food. 

“Ah… thanks,” he mumbled, blinking down. 

“Don’t mention it!” She chirped. “I was thinking… maybe we could meet later? I could show you around a bit…” 

Rick wasn’t sure how to answer that. Daryl had chosen this precise moment to appear, walking past them and slipping through the door.    
“Daryl?” Rick asked, confused, but the hunter only sent him a glare over his shoulder.    
“Don’t interrupt yerself. I’ll be by the pond.  _ Alone.” _ The hunter stomped away, disappearing behind the corner of the house. 

“Sorry, I gotta…” Rick threw Jessie an apologetic look, then went after Daryl, trying to catch up with him. Hopefully, the girl got the message and wouldn’t come pestering them in the afternoon. 


	20. Chapter 20

Prison

_ The princess and the pea _

Daryl’s hands were all over Rick, grabbing and pulling, squeezing whenever they had the chance. Rick moaned, happy with his choice of a meeting place - in the watchtower they could be as loud as they goddamned pleased… a fact of which Rick was taking full advantage, noisily receiving Daryl’s attention. He knew his hunter liked it, and because they couldn’t do it normally, it made this whole moaning business that much sweeter. 

Daryl was currently poised over him, fumbling with the buttons of Rick’s shirt, undoing them at a torturously slow pace. But, he was sloppily kissing every inch of freshly revealed skin, so Rick couldn’t complain, arching up into the touch, bringing their lower halves together for some friction. They were more or less fully dressed still, and in the cool interior of the watchtower, it didn’t bother either of them. 

What bothered them - or rather, what bothered  _ Rick _ \- was something that was digging into his ass. It had been there ever since Daryl had laid him out on their blanket.  _ Theirs, _ because they had agreed that there was no way they would fuck in Maggie and Glenn’s nest. Thankfully, there was just enough space on the floor between the lovebirds’ pillow fort and the crates full of ammunition that they could use. It would have been perfect if Rick hadn’t landed on something hard and unyielding. It was getting worse by the minute, and he finally broke away from their kissing. 

Panting softly, he looked down, raising his ass to have a better view. There was a lump under the blanket, and he frowned, twisting to the side a bit to reach under the edge of the material and get whatever the hell it was out. 

Daryl pulled away, frowning, looking at Rick wriggling beneath him.    
“What’re ya doin’?” He asked, his eyes glued to Rick’s angled hips.    
“There’s  _ something… _ digging in my ass… wait.” With a grunt, Rick finally managed to get the object out. He brought it up, eyes widening, before he snorted. 

_ Beth’s hairbrush.  _

It was small, wooden, and it had a surprising amount of hair tangled in. Rick showed it to Daryl with a smirk. Daryl eyed it, then just shrugged, quickly going back to kissing him. Rick threw the brush to the side, hearing it clatter along the cement floor. He didn’t pay it any attention, because Daryl’s lips were pressing into his, Daryl’s tongue demanding entrance, and Rick let himself be ravished. 

With a very pleased hum, Daryl went back to his unfinished task of unbuttoning Rick’s shirt, this time opening it fully before he even started to kiss and lick the delicate skin on Rick’s abdomen. As he descended lower, Daryl had to move his whole body back. He kicked something on his way down, there was a loud  _ clang _ and the sound of something breaking, and they both looked back, startled.    
“Shit.” Daryl was the first to react, taking in the mess on the floor.

There was a broken mug lying there, tiny bits of ceramic strewn around, the handle of it in three pieces.    
“Michonne’s gonna kill me,” Daryl groaned, staring at the remains. Rick nodded thoughtfully. It had been Michonne’s favorite cup, brought from a run by Glenn. It had been white and had had a tiny ninja printed on both sides.    
“We’ll clean it up later,” Rick murmured, leaning up to kiss just behind Daryl’s ear, hoping to get him back on the right track. He had to admit, though, that the death of Michonne’s mug had put out some fire inside him. They had so little possessions, even less that they actually cared about, and even if it had been just a mug, he still felt like an ass for being co-responsible. 

“Ya think she won’t notice?” Daryl asked hopefully, looking back at Rick.    
“Nope. Let’s get some before she grabs her sword.” Rick chuckled, then angled his hips up, effectively bringing Daryl back to the task at hand. He unzipped Rick’s trousers, pushing them out of the way. They ended up in the middle of Rick’s thighs, and he had half a mind to take them off completely, before he remembered that he was still wearing his boots. It would make the work just too difficult. 

“Turn ‘round,” Daryl gruffed, and Rick complied, hurriedly rolling onto his stomach. Like this, Daryl had a perfect view of his bare ass, and Rick wriggled it a bit to get him going. He was half-hard, Daryl’s appreciative grunts making him feel hotter with every second, and Rick knew that by the time Daryl would be done preparing him, he would be begging for it. 

Blindly, he reached towards the crates, knowing he had left their bottle of lube somewhere there. Daryl was so focused on his ass that he didn’t even notice Rick’s arm flailing next to them. Rick pawed at the crate, then shifted a bit further and  _ there it was! _ Quickly, he grabbed the little bottle and brought it closer, knocking a stack of  _ something.  _ The stack fell down and the next thing he knew, Rick was blinking down at one of the comics that had landed right in front of his face. 

_ Carl’s comic. _ Rick knew, he had seen his son reading it. 

“Uh, Daryl…” Rick swallowed, the thought of Carl making Daryl’s hand on his ass feel so very  _ wrong. _ Rick didn’t even have an explanation for that, the touch had just suddenly turned alien.    
“Yeah?” Daryl asked, leaning over Rick and peeking over his shoulder. He winced so hard Rick caught the sight of it out of the corner of his eye. 

The hunter was determined, though. He reached around Rick and closed the book, pushing it away.    
“Lean up a bit,” he murmured right into Rick’s ear, before he helped Rick to get on his hands and knees. It was a bit awkward with Rick’s trousers still bunched around his thighs, but they made do, somehow, with Daryl’s slippery fingers traveling down the small of his back. They rubbed between his cheeks, and Rick gave a soft moan when they grazed at his entrance. He wanted to push back against Daryl to show him what he wanted without words, but he needed more leverage, so he set his arms a bit wider apart, one landing next to the crate, the other partially on Glenn’s nest. 

When his fingers met something wet, Rick froze, eyes opening wide. His stillness must have registered in Daryl’s brain, because the hunter paused as well.    
“What is it?” He asked immediately, his voice weary. Rick cringed, looking at where his fingers were planted firmly on a very used condom. He felt his arousal dimming, a very uneasy feeling settling in his gut. 

_ Jesus fuck!  _

Rick tore his hand away as if it burned him, then started to wipe it against the blankets. And, if he did it a bit too long, he didn’t really care. How could he when he was so focused on not letting his tightening stomach take reign over his body.    
“I’m gonna kill ‘em before Mich gets my hide,” Daryl promised quietly behind him, sounding so serious Rick had to turn around and look at him. His hunter had his jaw set tight, his lubed up hand lying in his lap. He looked so miserable that Rick dove forward to kiss him tentatively.

“Later?” He proposed, hoping that this time nobody’s souvenirs would stop them from having some mind-blowing sex. “Back in the cell. After everyone goes to sleep.”    
“I have a shift then,” Daryl gruffed, huffing out in frustration.    
“Fuck that. Maggie and Glenn will take it. Do a bit of cleaning up in here, too,” Rick growled, pulling up his pants.


	21. Chapter 21

Lost Winter

_ Please, shut up _

They were all hungry and tired, so sneaking out for a bit of alone time had been the only thing on their mind since the day before. They had found a house that was good enough to spend a few days in, so Daryl and Rick went out to scavenge something, leaving their family to keep the fort. 

That thing growing between them was tentative yet, not fully formed, soft touches and desperate kisses.  It was thrilling and new, but it was familiar, too, on some level. Even more so when  Daryl started to get demanding, capturing Rick’s mouth on a few occasions, making him weak in the knees with his curious tongue and tiny moans. 

He was doing it now, in a rundown dump that had been someone’s house once upon a time, kissing Rick stupid. It wasn’t that they were reckless, they knew better than to let their guard down. But, there was that need to feel alive burning inside them, fueled by white-hot arousal, and they let themselves enjoy it. 

It had been mostly hands and grinding up until now, quickies whenever they managed to find a moment for one, whenever they became desperate for it. Lori was always near, and that made everything a bit harder to accomplish, but they didn’t give up, stealing a few minutes for themselves here and there. 

“Come on,” Daryl mumbled against Rick’s mouth, his hands busy unbuckling and unzipping Rick’s belt. Rick reciprocated by opening Daryl’s shirt, which was good, because the hunter had a feeling he was going to catch fire from all that heat filling him. He let Rick push the shirt down his shoulders, finally managing to pull Rick’s pants low enough to grab his dick. It was hard and straining, a bit wet at the tip, and Daryl licked his lips feeling the weight of it in his palm. 

An idea came to him and he dug one hand into the pocket of his jeans, producing a sachet of lube. He pushed it into Rick’s hand, looking up just in time to see the man blush furiously.    
“You sure?” Rick asked, his eyes burning. Daryl nodded, giving his length a generous stroke, then went to work on his own pants. They were loose - fuck, they needed to find more food - and it took no time at all to open them. He pushed them down, only far enough to give Rick access to his ass. He took a deep breath, stole one more deep kiss, then turned around, bracing his hands against the desk in front of him. 

There was silence. 

And then-   
_ “Daryl…” _ Rick’s voice was choked down, the quality of it reminding Daryl about the evening they had finally arrived at the farm and Rick had come out to greet them. Daryl had asked him about Carl and Rick’s voice had choked up much like it had now, a tight little sound that seemed to come from someone beaten black and blue. Frowning, Daryl glanced at him over his shoulder. 

Rick stared forward, his gaze glued to Daryl’s back, and…  _ oh shit. _ He had forgotten about  _ that. _

Daryl had scars… Loads of ugly welts, raised skin turned light pink over time, souvenirs from his past. He had somehow made his peace with them, but in such moments, he was reminded that not everyone knew about their existence. 

_ Rick hadn’t.  _

He was learning about this fact now, staring at Daryl’s back  in the light of the dying day. It illuminated every mark softly, making shadows dance across Daryl’s skin, putting everything in stark relief. 

With one last glance at Rick, Daryl sighed, turning his head back and glaring at the desk under his hands.    
“Daryl,” Rick tried again, voice a quiet whisper.    
“Don’t.” It came out a bit harsher than Daryl wanted it to, but he couldn’t stand the pity he knew was coming.  He wasn’t weak, he wasn’t a  _ victim. _ Not anymore, at least, and having this little reminder from the past screw up his present plans on mind-blowing sex he craved made him pretty angry. 

Rick seemed stuck on it, though.    
“Are you… are you alright?” Rick asked carefully. Daryl squished the urge to scoff.    
“‘Course I am. Wanted ya to fuck me a moment ago, remember? I’m fine,” Daryl grumbled out, shaking his head resignedly. His arousal was disappearing slowly, and he had a feeling that if he didn’t get Rick’s hands on him again, nothing would happen that evening. “Come on, Rick,” he prompted, barely refraining from sticking his ass back to goad his sheriff into fucking him. 

“You sure it’s okay?” Rick asked, not sounding convinced. Daryl rolled his eyes, this time pushing his hips out.    
“Yeah, yeah…”    
“Can I touch you?”    
“For god’s sake, Rick! Told ya to  _ fuck _ me, not fer this therapist role play  _ bullshit!” _ Daryl growled, finally turning around. His sudden movement startled Rick, his gaze dragging from where Daryl’s back had been just a moment before to the hunter’s face, and belatedly, Daryl realized that Rick’s eyes were wet. 

The man had been crying behind him silently that whole time, one hand stretched between them as if he wanted to touch Daryl but hadn’t been sure whether he was allowed to. The warmth in Daryl’s guts shifted, his arousal disappearing, and instead, the heat settled somewhere in his chest, blooming there until he was afraid his ribcage wouldn’t be able to contain it. 

“I…” Rick hesitated. He brought his hands to his face, rubbed at it distractedly, then curled up with a hiccup. “I’m sorry… I’m sorry.” He muttered, over and over, and Daryl’s expression softened.    
“Hey,” he tried, but Rick just shook his head, his whole body really, and kept on standing there. He wasn’t even hard anymore, too bothered to keep on going, and Daryl felt bad for his outburst. “‘S okay,” he mumbled, coming closer. As soon as he had stepped into Rick’s personal space, the man latched on him, hands finding purchase on Daryl’s arms and face pressing into his neck. 

Rick was a mess, but weren’t they all? Hanging by the thread, tired, starved, barely alive? Rick’s protective instincts were running high, and even if they were misplaced and got on Daryl’s nerves, he couldn’t really blame the man. And so, he wrapped his arms around Rick’s shoulders, shushing him gently when the man just trembled against him. 

Half an hour later, they went into the woods. Daryl managed to find a rabbit trail and, even if they hadn’t used their alone time to find some release, they at least managed to track down  a pretty fat bunny . They both counted it as a nice evening. 


	22. Chapter 22

Prison

_ Staying alive _

In the world around them, beggars couldn’t be choosers. Daryl knew that. Rick knew that. Hell,  _ everybody  _ knew that. 

They still had hopes when they saw the huge cardboard box full of cassette tapes that Glenn had hauled up into the prison one day.  _ Rock? _ Yes, please…  _ Pop? _ Alright, they could manage…  _ Classical? _ Would probably get on their nerves after a while, but would be good for a start… 

_ No such luck.  _

As soon as Glenn had popped one into an old-fashioned, battery-operated Philips player, their eyes went wide, their teeth gritting. 

_ Disco.  _

Fucking  _ disco, _ with its nerve-jarring beat and stupid lyrics sung in voices so high they sounded like they belonged to eunuchs. 

Rick and Daryl cringed simultaneously, knowing what was in store for them. And sure enough, five hours later, the music was still playing, thankfully turned to Bee Gees. Rick was grateful for this, he could listen to those guys, at least. But the music was still making him wince periodically, so he went on to find Daryl, ignoring the incoming dinner. Daryl had excused himself some time ago, mumbling about how he’d start dancing if he’d stayed, and Rick was pretty sure he could convince him to do some  _ horizontal _ dancing instead.

He found the hunter in their cell, sitting on the bunk and reading a book. Rick grinned, striding in,  _ Staying Alive _ stuck in his head from all that Bee Gees bullshit he had been subjected to.    
_ “I'm a woman's man, no time to talk…” _ Rick intoned, walking up to Daryl, who sent him a dirty look.    
“Ya gonna start singin’ that shit now?” He gruffed, squinting at Rick.    
“Sorry, it got stuck in my head,” Rick apologized, then sat down, leaning in for a kiss. 

Daryl responded eagerly, mumbling a quiet “finally,” before his hands were tugging Rick’s t-shirt over his head, prompting them to break apart. Rick couldn’t help himself.    
_ “Whether you're a brother or whe-” _   
“‘M warnin’ ya, Grimes,” Daryl growled, his eyes narrowing further. His hands paused where they were sliding over Rick’s abdomen, and Rick bit his lip, nodding.    
“Alright, alright, go on…” He muttered, gasping when Daryl dove forward and ran his tongue up his chest in one, long stroke. 

It was stronger than him, though, and on the next exhale, Rick let himself hum to the tune of the song still stubbornly banging around in his head. Daryl drew back, then pushed him down on the bed, attacking him with a hungry kiss that left no doubt as to what he wanted to do in the next five minutes. Rick moaned into the kiss, finally breaking the stupid tune… 

...only for Daryl to pick it up. He kissed down Rick’s chest, humming quietly, and before he knew it, the lyrics were escaping him, his warm breath tickling Rick’s abdomen.    
_ “You're stayin' alive, stayin' al-  _ Fuck! Look what ya’ve done!” Daryl accused, pulling back, glaring at Rick. He looked pissed off. Rick fought hard not to let his smirk show.    
“It’s okay,” he tried, reaching out for Daryl, but the hunter backed away. He opened his mouth to say something, but then, Glenn’s loud voice boomed right outside the curtain, Maggie and Beth doing their best to stand in for the choirs.    
_ “Ah, ha, ha, ha, stayin' alive!”  _

It was stronger than him. Rick burst out laughing, rolling to his side and curling up, peeling one eye open just to see Daryl’s astonished face. It only made him laugh harder, tears appearing on his face, his muscles aching with the force of his hiccups. 

Ten minutes later, they gave up and wandered back down, looking for food. Thankfully, nobody commented when Daryl turned the radio off with an angry scowl. 


	23. Chapter 23

Church

_ The evil eye _

They were alone finally, after they had managed to get all their family to sleep. Sneaking out like a pair of teenagers wasn’t the smartest thing to do, but with Gareth gone and the woods quiet around them, it would be a shame not to do it. They had walked out of the church, assuring their group that they would keep the watch through the night, before they disappeared behind the corner. There was a tall bush growing there, effectively covering their six. The hunter paused only for a moment, making sure that there were no walkers shuffling around, and then he was kissing Rick fiercely. 

Rick didn’t stay idle, either - his hands fisted in Daryl’s vest, keeping the man close as he rutted against him, feeling their cocks hardening from all that friction. It went on for a longer moment, and Daryl was about to press Rick into the nearest wall, when something caught his attention. 

A shape. In the bushes.  _ A shape that hadn’t been there before. _

Daryl leaned back, shushing Rick’s whine of protest with his fingers against Rick’s lips. His lover licked them, mischief sparkling in his eyes as his tongue dragged over the pads and fingernails, and Daryl let out a groan, hips bucking up helplessly. 

“Stop it,” he whispered softly, ducking his head forward to mouth at Rick’s ear. “Don’t move, think we have company,” he breathed out, then stepped away. It was all the warning Rick got, before Daryl turned around and lunged himself at the bush. It gave a yelp, and Rick froze, staring ahead.  _ Bushes didn’t yelp… _

With a growl, Daryl tugged and stepped back, and a man fell out from between the leaves, shorter than them, a lot more stocky in build. Rick’s hand was already at his belt, grabbing the knife he had strapped there, before his mind registered that it was not a walker. 

_ It was Eugene.  _

“The fuck are ya doin’?” Daryl spat, letting go of the scientist and making him stumble in the process. Eugene looked about ready to shit himself, and Rick raised his eyebrows at him.    
“I’ve been trying to observe the natural way of two males fornicating for entirely scientific purposes of future res-”    
_ “Bullshit!” _ Daryl seethed, taking a step forward. Eugene resolutely backed up, his shoulders touching the branches of the bush.    
“I-I want to assure you that I h-had no ill intentions towards either of you. I was merely trying to discern a way in which two subjects of the same gender and incompatibile organs could copulate in a natural and harmless way…” 

As Eugene babbled away, Rick brought a hand to pinch the bridge of his nose. All that yammering was making his head hurt, and he had a suspicious thought it had everything to do with his blood coming back into his body, instead of flowing steadily down between his legs. He was almost opening his mouth to tell Eugene to shut  _ his, _ when the scientist made a pause to take a breath. Daryl jumped in, clearly pissed off.    
“So what? Ya thought it would be nice to start pervin’ on us?” He gruffed out, his eyes narrowing. Rick swallowed, knowing from Daryl’s tense shoulders that his man was seconds from boiling over. 

“I admit that my approach might not have been as careful as it should. But, in my defence, I have to say that during my earlier observations none of the objects minded the attention-”    
_ “Objects?” _ Rick asked, shocked. It was one thing to spy on people having sex, but to treat them like a science experiment?    
“Aye. Rosita and Abraham had never seemed bothered by my atten-” 

Whatever he was going to say got lost somewhere between Daryl’s growl and him slamming Eugene into the wall right next to Rick. The boards shook with the force, and Rick was sure that the group inside had heard it. It was just a matter of time before someone came looking for them.    
“Daryl,” Rick tried, wrapping his fingers around Daryl’s bicep and trying to drag his hand away from Eugene’s shirt.  _ It didn’t even budge.  _

“I see ya one more time,” Daryl seethed, right into Eugene’s face. “No matter if yer pervin’ on Rosita or us. One. More. Time. And I’m gonna cut off tha’ sad dick of yers and feed it to the nearest walker I find, got it?” 

Eugene swallowed heavily, then nodded, his head shaky.    
“Good,” Daryl snarled. “Now get the  _ fuck outta my sight!”  _   
“Yes, of c-course,” Eugene mumbled. He stumbled like a drunk man when Daryl released him finally, but started to walk in the direction of the church’s door. Daryl glanced at Rick, frowning when he took in the wide-eyed stare his lover had.    
“What?” The hunter asked.    
“I just… That was  _ sexy, _ you know? Rick muttered, looking down. 

Daryl’s frown only deepened.    
“What? Him peeping on us?”    
“No,  _ god no!” _ Rick shook his head vehemently. “You… threatening him.  _ That _ was hot as hell,” Rick explained, stepping closer and planting a sloppy kiss on Daryl’s lips. Eugene’s appearance had sufficiently put out the fire in them, but maybe…  _ maybe… _ with a bit of  _ attention… _

“Rick? Daryl?” 

“Goddamnit,” Rick rasped, pulling away, then resting his head on Daryl’s shoulder. The hunter snorted, looking to the side.    
“What’s up Mich?”    
“We heard that thump. Then Eugene sprinted into the church and hid himself in the booth,” she said, smirking. “So… either a huge herd is coming, or he had met Daryl’s bad side.” She looked around comically, making dramatic gestures of bending down to check under the stairs and leaning to the side to make sure the bushes were walker-free. 

“Nothing,” she reported, grinning fully now, her eyes glittering in the half-darkness around them. Daryl barked out a laugh and shook his head. He flipped her off, before she disappeared back inside the church.    
“Guess that ruined the mood?” Daryl murmured. Rick groaned.    
“Yeah... just our luck.”    
“Come on, we’ve got a watch to take.” 


	24. Chapter 24

Prison

_A very small problem_

It was hard to get some privacy in the prison… Sure, they had their curtains and the ‘do not disturb’ rule, but there was no way of telling if there wasn’t someone nearby at any given time, _hearing_ things unintentionally. Looking for a way to remedy that, Rick had to get a bit crafty. He had thought about trying to get off in the watchtower but with so many people flowing through the place, it seemed a bit counterproductive. The next place his mind had gone to was the little tool shed they had managed to put together, but it was simply _too fucking small._ It might have been good for desperate solo sessions, but it would never fit two grown men. Especially when one of them had arms like tree trunks and a set of shoulders to match them. And so, Rick’s mind got busy again, searching for possibilities. 

One day the search ended, their future love nest taking the shape of the recently cleaned block B. It had been the death row, and just because of that, they had all been reluctant to clean it out. Rick had had to put his foot down pretty hard for the group to even consider it, but his argument about needing more space in the future worked like a charm. They had planned on staying there, so there was no reason not to make this place as secure and liveable as they could. It had been easier than they had thought, too, because almost all of the walkers had still been locked inside their cells. 

Now, almost three weeks later, Rick was dragging Daryl inside, slamming the entrance to the block firmly shut, his mouth busy kissing Daryl like a drowning man. The hunter snorted and smirked, slowing down the frantic pace Rick had settled, turning it into something much more manageable and fit for the occasion. 

_They had the whole block to themselves. There was no rush._

“Easy, tiger,” the hunter muttered, mouthing at Rick’s neck, letting himself be led along the cells until they found the right one. Rick steered him inside, moaning quietly when Daryl’s tongue found a particularly sensitive spot. Blindly, Rick started to pull off his own button up and boots, toeing them off clumsily.

When Daryl’s knees hit the narrow bed - _huh, no bunks in the death row?_ \- Rick pushed him on it, then climbed after him, settling between Daryl’s knees and staring down at him with lust-filled eyes. Daryl licked his lips and nodded when Rick’s hands traveled to his pants, so Rick undid them and slowly peeled them off Daryl’s legs. There was no underwear this time, and Rick couldn’t help but grin at him cheekily.   
“That for me?” He asked, batting his eyelashes, making Daryl bark out a short little laugh. 

_God, Rick would never get tired of this sound._

He leaned down and, never taking his eyes off Daryl, licked a broad stripe from his balls to the tip of his dick. It twitched, already hard and hot, and Rick took it as his clue to continue, focusing on sucking softly along the flushed length. Daryl was right, they had _time,_ nobody would come looking for them, and the place was quiet… Rick let himself enjoy his lover’s taste, licking at him lazily, rolling his tongue over every crevice he could find. He didn’t limit himself to Daryl’s cock, far from that. He dragged his lips over the curve of Daryl’s hipbones and down, over the soft line where the thigh met his groin, scraping his teeth lightly over the tender flesh just to see Daryl’s hips twitch. 

When he finally took him into his mouth, it was with a wriggling tongue and his lips sealed tightly over the head, the pace so slow it was bordening on glacial. Daryl tried to urge him to do something more, both hands coming to rest on Rick’s head, fingers twisting in his hair and tugging slightly. His hips started to rock up, and Rick smiled - as much as he was able to - and let him slide a little deeper in, trying to keep the sensations light and teasing. 

He was about ready to grab the bottle of lube he had stashed earlier under the bed, when something scratched at his leg. At first Rick thought it was just a rougher part of the blanket, he had noticed it had some holes burned out, after all. But a moment later, the scratchy feeling was back, moving along his socketed foot. He kicked back automatically, pulling off Daryl’s cock with a frown. 

When the scratchy _something_ returned and _bit him,_ Rick gave a startled yelp. With his eyes wide, faster than he had given himself credit for, he scrambled up, climbing over Daryl and settling next to his head, his back pushed into the corner between two walls.   
“What the _fuck?”_ He breathed out, wide eyes darting along the bed to find what the hell had just _bitten him._ He had a moment of dread when his mind connected the most obvious wires in his brain - _a bite equals a walker_ \- before Rick stomped it down firmly, shaking his head to clear it. 

It was clearly something _else,_ walkers didn’t just sneak up on two men trying to have sex in the middle of a _secure_ block. But Rick still felt uneasy and… well, _scared_ was maybe a bit of a strong word, but… _yeah, what the hell, he was scared, alright? He didn’t like things he couldn’t even see to bite him unexpectedly._

“Um… Rick?” Daryl asked, confused, looking up at Rick with eyes as wide as Rick had ever seen them.   
“There was something there!” Rick waved his finger at the foot of the narrow bed, fighting the urge to draw his knees up. Daryl gave him a curious sort of look, before his gaze went pointedly to his dick, still very hard and very interested. Rick shook his head again, letting his hand fall.   
“The hell are ya talkin’ ‘bout?” Daryl gruffed out, propping himself up on his elbows and looking down to where Rick had pointed earlier. “There’s nothing there!” He added helpfully.   
“There was _something,_ and it scratched and _bit_ me,” Rick mumbled, somehow managing not to whine. 

He knew he was probably acting ridiculously, but he couldn’t help himself. What if they had been fucking already and that… _thing_ had sneaked up on them and sunk his teeth into a more tender place?   
“What?” Daryl asked, his eyes narrowing. “Somethin’ _bit ya,_ then disappeared? Ya feelin’ alright?”   
“Of course I’m alr- look,” Rick muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I’m not crazy, I’m not _seeing_ things, there was something and that something _bit me._ On my _foot.”_ Rick demonstrated by lifting his foot up. Daryl looked at it, even turned it around to get a better view, then shrugged. 

“An’ what the hell am I supposed to do with it? Go on and bring it _back_ so it can bite ya s’ more?”   
“Yes, please… I mean, _no!_ Just… find out what it was? _Please?”_ Rick looked like a kicked puppy when he said that, even pouting his lips a little and giving Daryl that helpless look. He knew that always worked. 

Sure enough, a moment later, Daryl was heaving himself up with a grunt, squinting at his softening cock briefly, before he shuffled to the end of the bed. Rick watched him silently, his gaze following the hunter when he checked the covers - _twice -_ and declared them _biters-free._ Next, Daryl went to the edge of the mattress and peered over it, looking left and right, giving Rick a glare when he didn’t find anything. He muttered something about _pixie walkers,_ then bent over, supporting himself on one hand placed firmly on the ground. 

With one last dirty look sent Rick’s way, he leaned down, getting his head as close to the ground as he could, just so he was able to look under the bed. The position he had put himself in had given Rick a beautiful view of his ass - a perfect display of those firm muscles that Rick could literally kiss and lick for a whole day and night. 

He was a bit distracted now though, too much so to appreciate the sights. 

Rick froze when Daryl reached under the bed with his other hand, then started laughing quietly, a gruffy sort of sound that spoke of him trying not to cackle. Rick knew that sound. His eyes widened when Daryl managed to finally straighten up, bringing one arm up… 

_A mouse._ A fucking mouse, light-brown and wriggling, its tail held firmly between Daryl’s fingers. It was hanging there, trying desperately to get free, thrashing around and not going anywhere. 

“Got yer _biter,”_ Daryl said, snorting, watching as the mouse struggled to escape. Rick stared at it with wide eyes. _Was it what had bitten him? So fucking small…_ “Want me to let it go or should I make a stew outta it?” The hunter asked, grinning. He waved it at Rick’s face, making Rick flatten himself against the wall, before he was standing up.   
“Come on, yer not welcome ‘ere,” he mumbled to the little animal, walking out of the cell and towards the next. When he got back a few moments later - decidedly mouse-free - Rick wasn’t entirely sure yet whether he wanted to try having sex again. _What if there were more of them?_


	25. Chapter 25

Prison

_ Welcome to the Hotel California _

“Oh god…” Rick whispered in awe, blinking up at the ceiling. Daryl was moving over him, thrusting  _ into _ him, and it was all Rick could do not to moan aloud. He tried not to, it would probably only drag walkers towards the little bedroom they had holed themselves up in, but  _ damn _ was it hard… 

In an attempt to distract himself, he detached his mouth from that delicious spot on Daryl’s neck and let his head fall back on the dusty pillow, gulping in air when his lungs finally let him know that he was running low. Rick’s eyes traveled up on their own volition, right over Daryl’s broad shoulder, up to the ceiling hanging above them. However, instead of old stains and crumbling plaster, Rick’s eyes met…  _ himself.  _

Fascinated, Rick stared at his own reflection in a giant mirror hanging above them, Daryl’s body moving over him lazily, rocking up into him, the hunter doing his best to make Rick lose his mind. Like this, with the help of the mirror, he could see every detail of Daryl’s back - every scar, yes, but also every tensing muscle, every miniscule  _ twitch  _ and  _ oh fuck, _ but was the sight of it  _ beautiful. _

Watching Daryl poised over him like some kind of a wild, jungle predator, taking what was his,  _ staking his claim, _ turned Rick on beyond logic, and he moaned loudly, squeezing his eyes shut and tightening his legs around Daryl’s waist to urge him on. Daryl’s rhythm stuttered at that, and he looked up at him curiously. Rick grinned, meeting him in a fiery kiss, then decided that Daryl should see a bit of that delicious view himself. 

Wrapping both arms around his hunter, Rick pushed off the mattress with his leg, rolling them around quickly. A surprised little  _ ompf  _ left Daryl in a rush, before he gazed at Rick with wide eyes, licking his lips when he realized that Rick was going to  _ ride him. _ With his hands on Rick’s hips, he helped him move up a bit, adjusting his position, until he felt comfortably seated in Daryl’s lap. That was precisely when Rick bowed down and whispered right into his ear, giving it a slow lick.    
“Look up.” 

Confused, Daryl let his eyes dart to the ceiling, before he froze. A mirror…  _ who the hell puts mirrors on the ceiling? What did the previous owner think? What was next? Pink champagne on ice and fucking in a Mercedes-Benz?  _

Daryl blinked slowly at his own reflection, taking in every detail…  _ Christ, _ he could even see that little scar on his hip he had gotten after that incid-  _ wait. _ If he could see that tiny scar on his hip then Rick…

Daryl glanced at his lover panicky, but Rick wasn’t paying attention to anything. He had his eyes closed, was sitting up on Daryl’s lap and started to slowly, intently, move his hips. Up and down, up and down, a little twist, and up and down again. He looked lost in the rhythm, leaning back a bit to get the angle right, and  _ yeah, _ Daryl could appreciate the display… 

But then his eyes went up to the mirror again, back to the image of them, moving together. To that ridiculous expression he was wearing, the the frankly laughable twitches of their bodies…    
“Rick, wait,” he gruffed out, his hands squeezing Rick’s hips to stall him. The sight of the both of them wasn’t arousing… it looked  _ funny,  _ and not necessarily in a good way. 

“What’s wrong?” Rick asked, stopping his movements, looking down at him with a concerned frown.   
“I…” Daryl started, then trailed off. He didn’t really know what to say.  _ Ya know, watching myself having sex is not really sexy at all? It’s actually putting me off so maybe we could go and fuck somewhere else?  _   
“Daryl?” Rick prompted, leaning forward, propping his hands next to Daryl’s head. The hunter swallowed, then nodded up, indicating the ceiling. Rick’s frown deepened. 

“Can’t do it like this,” Daryl whispered finally, looking between them, to where Rick’s dick was still pretty much hard and leaking. Daryl’s own was softening, even while it was surrounded by Rick’s perfectly tight heat. Something about the notion of Rick seeing his scars, of the both of them looking so weird like that, twitching and shifting, made Daryl feel absolutely put off. He cleared his throat then looked away, hoping the message would get through. 

Rick was motionless on top of him for a long time, until with a quiet  _ “oh” _ he climbed down. His hands were cupping Daryl’s face before the hunter could comprehend what was happening.    
“I’m sorry…” Rick whispered, kissing him gently. “I’m sorry, I thought… It looked  _ hot, _ and…”    
“Don’t. ‘S okay,” Daryl mumbled back. He threaded his fingers through Rick’s hair, combed it a bit, then sighed. 

“Guess we should check out the rest of the house for supplies, huh?” He proposed, looking up at Rick. The leader nodded, biting his lip, glancing down the length of Daryl’s still very naked body.    
“If I find a room with no mirrors…” he started, but Daryl didn’t let him finish, kissing him deeply halfway through whatever he wanted to say.    
“Then yer on,” he murmured, pulling back. He couldn’t help but smirk at Rick’s dazed expression. 


	26. Chapter 26

Prison

_The lion sleeps tonight_

The best laid plans of mice and men often go awry, therefore, it wasn’t anything out of the norm that Rick and Daryl’s plan didn’t work out in the end. But they tried, _god how they tried._

-&-

In the morning, they were woken up by Judith screaming her throat out, trying to draw their attention to her wet diaper and slight, cold-induced fever. Daryl had appeared in his cell and was shushing Judith before Rick could even crawl out of bed. It took them two hours to get her settled again, by which time they were both wide-awake and in dire need of coffee. 

At the breakfast, it turned out that they were the only ones actually able to prepare breakfast - Daryl had to skin rabbits and Rick took it upon himself to cook the stew. The usual cooks - Carol and Beth - were busy keeping the watch or keeping the kids reined in. Rick didn’t mind, and going by Daryl’s pleased smile that didn’t disappear through the whole morning, neither did he. 

They had agreed to spend the evening together, which was to be made easier by giving Judith to Tyreese. It wasn’t that hard to convince him either, it seemed that he loved Lil’ Asskicker and he would gladly spend the night keeping watch over her. 

Just after their breakfast, they walked off into different directions, taking up their respective chores - Rick going straight to his pigs, and Daryl wandering out into the forest to check the snares. Of course, as always, it didn’t go as planned. 

The snares turned out to be empty, so Daryl went on a hunting trip, which took up more than half a day. At least he managed to find a rabbit and two fat wild turkeys… He showed up with them at the prison shortly before sunset, tired and angry, not really satisfied with what he had managed to bring back. Feeling a bit too useless for his tastes, Daryl directed his steps to the old van they sometimes used, noticing Glenn diving under the hood. He dumped the dead animals right next to Glenn’s feet, startling him. 

“Jeeez!” Glenn scrunched up his nose, looking down at the blood seeping slowly from one of the wounds on the turkey’s neck. It was the one Daryl had pierced through right under the head, and the hole was bleeding like crazy still.   
“Get ‘em inside and cook ‘em,” Daryl gruffed out, peeking at the engine.   
“Erm… _right,”_ Glenn took the animals by their legs, looking for all the world like he was going to throw up.   
“The car’s not starting,” Glenn mumbled, glancing at one of the turkeys as if it was to bite him. Daryl smirked and shooed him away.   
“Got it.” 

_He didn’t._

It took him three hours to find out what the hell was wrong with the car, and by the time he did, Daryl was about ready to throw in the towel. Thankfully, he managed to fix it finally, and when he heard that sweet cough-like sound of the old sputtering engine, he was sure he could cry from happiness. It did wonders to his self-esteem, too, and soon, he didn’t feel like a complete waste of air. Mildly triumphant, hellishly tired, he walked back into the prison. 

Just in time, it seemed, to catch Rick coming back from the showers. He was wrapped in a towel and had his clothes bunched up in his hands. He looked delicious with his hair all damp and messy, and Daryl barely restrained himself from pressing him into the nearest wall and kissing him senseless.   
“Hi,” Rick murmured seeing him, smiling happily but with tiredness shining through him clearly. He was probably exhausted after a day filled with hard work in the garden and with the pigs. Daryl nodded, grunted, and walked on, hoping to get at least some of the hot water that might still have been left. 

-&-

“Been thinkin’ ‘bout this,” Daryl muttered, sliding under the covers and stretching himself next to Rick on their narrow bunk. Rick hummed, twisting around and giving him a sloppy, sleepy kiss. His lips didn’t linger on Daryl’s mouth, though - he slid them to the side, mouthing at his jaw and then neck, pushing his nose into the hollow near the collarbone and inhaling deeply. Daryl let his hands travel over Rick’s sides, rubbing the soft skin. Rick sighed against him and pressed closer, throwing one arm around Daryl’s ribs and pulling him tighter against his own body. 

The hunter was about to slip his hand under the waistband of Rick’s boxers to grope his ass, when he felt the boneless heaviness of Rick’s whole form. He frowned, then drew back carefully, eyeing his lover. 

Rick was _asleep._ Out like a light, with his lips parted slightly, eyes closed and his breath coming out in shallow puffs. 

A bit surprised, knowing that he was running on fumes, too, Daryl leaned in to kiss him gently. It brought Rick back for a moment and he blinked confusedly up at him, then looked down the length of their bodies, as if trying to orient himself in the progress of what they were doing.   
“Daryl?” He asked finally, gazing at the hunter again, and Daryl only smirked.   
“‘S alright, go back to sleep,” he whispered, stealing one more kiss. Rick hummed into it, reciprocating as much as he was able to, before he settled back down, cuddling up immediately. 

There went their evening together.


	27. Chapter 27

Alexandria

_ What goes squeak in the dark _

The fact that the bed was squeaking with their every movement hadn’t even registered in Rick’s brain. How could it? His brain was currently on vacation, taking its sweet time off while Daryl did his best to rail him into the mattress. Rick couldn’t complain about a little noise… in fact, even while the walls of their new house were quite thin, they were still enough to keep most of the noises inside their bedroom - a fact of which they took full advantage. 

And so, Rick was content to just let it go, had it not been for Daryl pausing every now and then to change their position, to shift them a bit to the side here or a bit lower there, trying to find that one perfect spot where the bed would finally  _ shut up. _

“Jesus, stop it,” Rick hissed when his lover nudged him to the side yet again. Daryl shot him a dirty look, then kept trying, giving up only after Rick hooked his legs behind his ass and urged him on. It worked well to distract Daryl from the squeaking bed frame for a longer moment, and Rick moaned out his appreciation during the next few hard thrusts. The bliss didn’t last long, though, and soon, the hunter was looking for that perfect spot again, as if finding it would prevent that old thing from being so noisy. 

“You know this is not gonna work, right?” Rick asked, breathless, trying not to laugh aloud at the sheer determination that shone through Daryl’s expression. Daryl, on the other hand, only narrowed his eyes in answer, then rocked up into him fast, pulling almost all the way out and sliding right back in. Rick’s back arched and he choked down on a moan, hoping  _ his _ noises didn’t travel through the house. 

“There has to be a spot where that thin’ goes silent,” Daryl muttered, shifting his knees and changing the angle of his cock inside Rick at the same time. It pressed hard against Rick’s prostate and he arched back, groaning, biting his lip in an attempt at not coming.    
“Jesus… come  _ on, _ just fuck me, nobody’s… ah!  _ Nobody’s gonna hear,” _ Rick pleaded, leaning up to trail kisses down Daryl’s neck, sinking his teeth in the meat of his shoulder when his mouth landed there. “Please?”    
“I… fuck, alright! But if ‘chonne hears it, yer dealin’ with ‘er,” Daryl gruffed back at him, then started to move. 

After that, Rick had no other choice but to hold on for the ride and muffle his ecstatic cries with Daryl’s skin. His body went hot and tight quickly, the pleasure coursing through him almost too much to stand. He was so close to the edge he could almost taste it. A few more thrusts, Daryl’s strong hand wrapped around his dick, and he would -

Suddenly, the world crashed around them with a loud bang, and Rick found himself smothered under Daryl’s weight. His lover pulled out of him and draped himself protectively over Rick’s body in a blink of an eye, shielding him from whatever it was that fell down. 

_ It took Rick an embarrassingly long time to figure out that it was actually them that fell down. _

“What the hell?” Rick whispered in the dead silence of the room. Daryl grumbled something too complicated to understand, then leaned back, looking around for signs of trouble. When he realized that it had just been the bed giving out on them, he pulled away fully with a scoff.    
“Told ya we shoulda find a better spot,” the hunter gruffed out, sitting up on his knees. The sudden kick of adrenaline had rendered them both a bit useless when it came to fucking, but Rick wasn’t opposed to trying again. They had already broken the bed, what else could happen? Besides,  _ it wouldn’t squeak now.  _

Rick was already diving forward to capture Daryl’s mouth in a kiss, when there were footsteps outside their bedroom.  _ Urgent _ footsteps. Followed by insistent knocking.    
“Are you guys alright?” Michonne asked from the other side of the door, her voice interrupted by the rattle of the doorknob. 

“Guess they heard that after all, huh?” Daryl commented, his voice flat. Rick groaned, then plopped down on the mattress.    
“Not a word.” 


	28. Chapter 28

Church

_ Invasion _

Finding a moment alone while surrounded by your family is not an easy task.

_ Finding a moment alone while surrounded by your family in a church is an impossible task.  _

And yet, Daryl had somehow managed to convince everyone that a perimeter check was in order and that it required the both of them. Twenty minutes later, they were happily rolling around on the leaves, about a hundred yards away from the church. Gareth had been killed a few nights before so the forest was relatively safe. Well… there were still walkers, but they had gotten better at avoiding them while out in the open. 

That was precisely why they were both on the ground, kissing with blind need, not paying attention to what was really happening around them - not beyond the basic glances at their surroundings anyway. 

Daryl was on his back, with Rick fitted nicely in the cradle of his thighs, acting as if he wanted to eat him alive. The hunter didn’t mind, he just let his hands skim down Rick’s sides, hiking up the shirt he was wearing, slipping underneath to splay hungry fingers over delicate flesh. Rick groaned something unintelligible, his lips traveling to Daryl’s neck, pressing against his pulse point. It was bliss,  _ pure fucking bliss, _ and Daryl moaned aloud at that. He bucked his hips up, searching for friction, hoping to get it even through all the layers they were wearing. Rick must have been on the same page, because he detached himself from Daryl’s neck and leaned back a bit, hands getting busy with Daryl’s buckle. 

“Eager?” Rick asked, grinning when Daryl scowled at him.    
“Look who’s talkin’,” he gruffed, lifting his hips to help. “Wasn’t me who dragged us all t’ way out ‘ere.” He groaned when Rick tugged his pants down. They ended up bunched around his thighs, but that wasn’t a problem - they would get rid of them later, anyway. Grimacing when a stray pine needle jammed him in the butt, Daryl shifted a bit, giving a relieved sigh when Rick licked his palm. The sight of it was erotic enough, especially when paired with the knowledge what exactly that hand would be doing in a moment, but when it wrapped around Daryl’s length tightly? 

_ Daryl was in heaven. _

He tossed his hair back and bit his lip not to moan too loudly. The friction provided by Rick’s nimble fingers was delicious, and Daryl couldn’t help but rock his hips upwards for more.    
“Come on,” he coaxed, getting only an amused huff from his lover.    
“Patience,” Rick whispered, but looked down anyway, his free hand appearing on Daryl’s hip and rubbing it in slow circles. The touch started to migrate lower and Daryl was ready to grab his pants and tug them off, give Rick some access, but Rick paused.    
“Hello there.” 

Daryl blinked down at him, frowning.  _ Who the hell he was talking to? _

Rick was looking down at Daryl’s abdomen, his eyes following  _ something, _ a goofy smile stretching his lips wide.    
“What?” Daryl asked, confused.    
“You’ve got an ant crawling over you,” Rick explained, taking his thumb and forefinger and flicking the insect off Daryl’s skin. He went back to kissing and licking right away, ducking down to suck a few bruises right in the middle of Daryl’s abdomen. 

All thoughts of ants left Daryl’s head for a few minutes, until he felt Rick pulling away again. This time the hunter groaned in irritation, glancing down. Rick just chuckled.    
“They seem to like you… not surprised. But you’re mine,” he whispered possessively, leaning close to Daryl’s skin and blowing to get another ant off of him.    
“Don’t care… come on, stop teasin’,” Daryl moaned out, arching into the press of Rick’s mouth.    
“Uhm… Daryl?” Rick paused, then leaned back. He looked funny, a mix of serious concern and a bit of panic mixing on his features with wild amusement. 

“What is it?” Daryl gruffed out, propping himself up on his elbows. He looked down and froze. 

_ The ants were everywhere. _ They were crawling over his legs, over his stomach… there were a few running down Rick’s shirt, too.    
“What the  _ fuck?” _ Daryl jumped up, patting down his body, trying to shake the insects off. Rick did his own version of the  _ ant dance _ a few feet away from him, even going as far as to shake his head like a wet dog, hoping to get them out of his hair. 

“Jesus  _ fuck!” _ Rick cried, jumping around. Daryl would have told him that there weren’t any ants on him any longer, but he was too busy jumping around, too, batting away every little black dot he spotted on him.    
“Just… our…  _ fuckin’... _ luck!” He gruffed out, pulling up his pants after he had pronounced them ant-free, then looking around. There was a suspiciously looking mound of earth half-covered in dead leaves about two yards away, hiding under a bush.

_ Marvelous.  _

“Guess what,” Daryl huffed, dragging his gaze back to his lover. “Camped right next to a fucking anthill.”    
“I just-” Rick started, but broke off to scratch at his neck. “Fuck this shit, I’m going back.” With that, he started to walk away, directing his steps to the church. With a snort, Daryl followed, cursing the little insects in his mind.


End file.
